A Bones Interpretation By Episode
by tropicalgirlie
Summary: Please read story for full summary...this is my interpretation of each episode, from the very beginning.  It details what might have happened behind the scenes, and after each episode is over.  Will start off mild, but be prepared for M ratings later on..
1. PILOT

_**So for me, this is a fairly huge undertaking. I'm trying to write one piece perspectives of each episode, how they could have gone, what Booth and Brennan might have been thinking…etc. Each piece will be stand alone, focusing on each episode from the very beginning. I'll try to capture, as I see it, what might have happened behind the scenes. Some of the stories will inevitable stray from the original story line (I'm a romantic, and I don't think it should be taking as long as it is for Booth and Brennan to get together…) But each story will start back up following the events of the previous episode, not my story. As the stories progress, I will start to use previous episodes to help build their characters, relationships, etc…I think that it'll make more sense as these stories develop.**_

_**I stole some information for this first piece from the 100**__**th**__** episode, since before then we didn't have any clues as to how Booth and Brennan met.**_

_**Let me just say, I've started several Bones fics, but I have a very hard time writing for Brennan's character, so I'm hoping this will help me hone my skills…reviews would be GREATLY appreciated. I'll try to include a little preamble for each story as it's needed…OK, enough rambling…here goes nothing.**_

Special Agent Seeley Booth walked into the airport slowly, his mind whirling with thoughts. It had been a while since he'd seen her. Hell, he could count the months, weeks, the days, even the hours, but it didn't matter now. He would see Temperance Brennan today. He pictured her, furious but calm, sitting in the security room at the airport.

He thought back to that day, over a year ago. The end of their last case together. It had not ended well, but a day hadn't gone by that he didn't think about her. He remembered that night in the bar, when he had every intention of taking her home and making love to her. Her kiss had tasted of tequila and raw energy, and it had invigorated him. The glint in her eyes had tightened his chest when she had mentioned that they could have sex, since they were no longer working together. Even a year later, the thought sent heat radiating through his whole body.

His shoes thudded against the shiny tile floor of the airport as, book in hand; he made his way towards his goal. He passed many people heading towards the baggage claim, and skimmed briefly through the crowd of travelers. He had been radioed earlier, so he knew that Brennan was in custody. He knew that she was safely stowed away with an agent from Homeland Security, but nevertheless, he couldn't help but look for her face.

He was anxious to see her, he could admit that to himself. Hell, he couldn't wait to see her. When the case had come across his desk earlier that day, of remains found in the water at Arlington, he knew it would be just the excuse he needed to call Dr. Goodman at the Jeffersonian and get his favorite Forensic Anthropologist loaned to him. He also knew, however, that she would not go willingly. Finding out that she was arriving back in D.C. that very day from Guatemala, he quickly jumped into his SUV and headed for Dulles.

He quickly called his friend in Homeland Security and set up a 'hold for questioning' request and interrogation. He didn't know what would be asked or said, but he just needed to buy time until he could get to the airport to 'rescue' her. It was lame, he knew, but it was the only shot he had.

He stopped by the Border's bookstore in the airport and picked up a copy of her book, "Bred in the Bone". He hadn't read it yet, and quite frankly, he had no desire to read it. Stories about a forensic anthropologist held no interest for him whatsoever, but he didn't want Brennan knowing that. He figured having it with him might earn brownie points…he hoped.

He turned the corner in the airport and headed towards the security room she was being held in. Outside were several chairs, and he recognized the artist, Angela Montenegro, sitting nervously in the one closest to the door. He grinned to himself lightly as he approached her. She wore an uneasy look on her face, and tapping her foot nervously and chewing on her thumb nail, she waited for her friend. She glanced up as he approached, and a knowing look crossed her face. She stood, hands on hips, grinning at him.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, you asshole. You set this up, didn't you?" She crossed her arms in front of her, and his own grin spread across his face guiltily.

"Good to see you too, Angela. How long has she been in there?"

"Almost a half hour." Booth nodded, watching as Angela glanced down at the book under his left arm. "You know she's gonna kill you, right?" Her eyebrows rose, and she cocked her head to one side, sizing him up. He couldn't help but grin back.

"You can go, Angela, I'll give Bones a ride home." Angela eyed him for a moment, biting her bottom lip, obviously processing this all as quickly as possible.

"Alright." She made to walk passed him, but stopped and whispered in his ear, "good luck."

He didn't turn around, but waited until the sound of her footfalls retreated far enough that he knew she had left. With that, he took a deep breath, grasped the door handle and quietly pulled it open.

There she was. He wasn't at all prepared for this, he realized as he turned his head briefly to regroup. If she heard him enter, she didn't show it. She continued speaking to the agent, not at all fearful of his tactics. Booth glanced down at his jacket, waiting for the right moment to speak. He bit back a laugh when she apologized for embarrassing the agent, and he wished for that moment that he could have been there to witness her being taken into custody.

"What are you doing here?" He was jerked out of his reverie, meeting her steely blue eyes and she turned her head to look at him. Apparently she _had_ noticed him enter, though how, he had no idea. _Alright, Seeley, it's now or never._

Ignoring her question, he spoke directly to the H.S. agent, doing his best to explain the FBI's relationship with Dr. Brennan. His friend was doing a good job feigning ignorance to the situation, and it seemed to Booth that his plan was working. At that moment, feeling a bit cocky, he slid Brennan's book across the table for the agent to see.

Fate, however, was not on Booth's side that day. Brennan saw through the whole charade, anger flaring in her beautiful blue eyes as she grasped that the whole thing was a set up. As Booth realized this, he tried out humor, but it was lost on her, her anger physically filling the room until he felt suffocated by it.

They argued the whole drive to Arlington. Brennan couldn't believe his audacity, and said as much. She threatened him in several different ways, but a sort of peace agreement was achieved and the discussion was put to rest. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but, as Booth got out of the truck after Brennan, following her down to the water at the cemetery, he couldn't help but smile. He got Bones back.

Booth arrived at the Jeffersonian later that day, hoping to get more information on the remains. When he reached Brennan's office, he saw that it was empty. He wondered briefly if she'd gone home to shower or change, but then pushed that thought away. He knew her better than that. Once her skills were needed, she would not rest or deviate until the problem was solved.

She wasn't on the main platform nor was she in Angela's office. Heading up towards the catwalk and back platform, faint music drifted towards his ears. He saw lights on up ahead of him, and as quietly as possible, he approached her.

He watched from afar as her delicate fingers moved pieces of bone fragments across the exam table. Her eyes focused on her work, he envied her in that moment for her ability to tune the world out, centering solely on the fragments in front of her. He admired the way she could take a corpse, a nameless victim and give them back their identity; to tell their story.

A sad dedication crossed her face as the lower jaw began to take shape. It was at that moment that the bones became more than just bones. They became a person. A young woman. The same tightening in her chest that she got every time she did a skull reconstruction began to overwhelm her, but she clamped it down before it could take genuine shape. Booth watched from behind as her shoulders tensed for a moment, then relaxed as she picked up the bottle of glue and put another piece of the puzzle together.

He stayed hidden in the shadows for a long time, watching her. He knew very well that she'd been awake for over twenty four hours, but her determination never wavered. Glancing down at his watch he realized that he'd been observing her for over an hour. As carefully as possible, he backed down the catwalk and out of the Jeffersonian.

As Angela was setting up the hologram of the victim, Booth had to step around the table to Brennan's side to get a better view of the front of the victim. As he neared her body, he couldn't help but inch a bit closer to her, taking in her warmth, and the smell of her perfume. He hadn't realized in this past year how much he'd missed her, until he had her back again. He quickly compartmentalized the feelings that coursed through him anew, focusing on the image in front of him.

Not believing how real it looked, he couldn't help but raise his hand to try to touch the face that had materialized in front of him. He jumped a fraction of an inch when her hand came up to his wrist, pulling his away from the hologram. It felt like a static shock, and he wondered if she felt it too. If she did, she didn't show it as she began to speak to Angela again.

As Brennan moved around the table, studying the image in front of her, Booth couldn't help but follow. Mesmerized though he was by the body in front of him, he couldn't help but succumb to the gravitational pull that was Temperance Brennan.

His thoughts quickly changed however, when the image in front of him went from nameless corpse to unsolved murder victim. Cleo Eller. New feelings of remorse and anger filled his chest, and he knew the tone in the room had changed. Whether he was the cause or not, he was unaware, but his focus totally left Brennan and went to the girl in front of him.

The facts from the years old case files flooded from his subconscious back to the present. He pictured her family, mother and father weeping, wondering if their daughter would ever be found. He watched as the image of the bones floated in a circular motion in front of him, Cleo Eller's face calmly rotating above them.

He studied the face, unaware that Brennan was studying his. She saw an expression there that she'd never seen on his face before; disappointment? No, it was deeper than that. Discontent? Maybe. Guilt for sure, and perhaps even surrender. But there was also resolve and determination that as well. It was a mix of feelings that her infinite wisdom could not name, but in that moment, watching Booth watch Cleo Eller, sadness filled her heart, and she felt for the FBI agent in a way she never thought she would.

Booth hated telling her that she couldn't be part of the investigation; one of his ducks. But at the same time he unconsciously also hungered for her emotions, the anger, the rage and frustration. When she got flared up his pulse raced, unbeknownst to Brennan, Booth couldn't get enough of her, no matter how simple the exchange was.

Throwing caution to the wind, blackmail or not, permission from Cullen or not, he agreed to let her help.

Back at the Jeffersonian that night, Booth arrived later than he'd wanted to, but walked determinedly, fully intending to invite Brennan out for a drink. Did he want to take them back to that night so many years ago? No. It wasn't the right place or time for that, but something in him craved more time with her. He walked along the hallway, but stopped when she saw her. His heart broke a little bit as he watched her.

She was leaning over an aluminum partition door. She swung it slowly, back and forth…back and forth, her body slowly swaying to the same beat. Booth could feel the sadness sliding off of her, making its way down the dark hallway right into his heart. Just as he took another step towards her, Angela appeared out of the shadows down the hall a ways and approached Brennan. They conversed for a moment, then turned and left together. Not able to hear what been spoken between the two, he took a deep breath, let it out in a discontented sigh, and turned to walk back to his truck. _Another time, _he promised himself.

"I suggest that you go back to your lab, Dr. Brennan, and get used to being there." Cullen's words bruised Booth, but cut through Brennan like a knife. The look of hurt in her eyes made Booth angry. It was the look in the eyes of a tiger or lion in a zoo. It was a look of defeat, and it made Booth sick.

Instead of internalizing and focusing the anger he had inside, he let it lash out at Brennan's team back at the Jeffersonian. The words were coming from his mouth before he could stop them, and though he didn't mean a single one, they were said none the less.

"This is exactly why squints belong in the lab." The sentence cut them all, he knew, but he could no longer keep his frustration in check. His tone was ice cold and hard edged. He knew it affected each of them, but what they didn't realize is that it hurt him just as much, letting the words come out. He was angry at the killer for murdering Cleo, mad at Cullen for berating Brennan, mad at her team for not having more information, but mostly, he was mad at himself that he hadn't solved this case years ago. It was that frustration that drove his aggression, and nothing else.

"You guys don't know anything about the real world." He watched the defeated look cross each face, first Zack, then Hodgins, and finally Angela. A quick glance at Brennan showed not defeat, but anger, and worse, hurt. Chiding himself immediately, he was about to counter his own statement, but Brennan retreated, and his thoughts became meaningless.

Their banter at the gun range only fueled his feelings towards her. Whether she knew it or not, her quick quips enflamed him, turned him on, and so her countered back, challenging her to more. When she said, "Be a cop." It captivated him, made him want her all the more. Adrenaline always coursed through him at the gun range, set his teeth on edge, and a challenge like that from her could have easily spelled disaster for both of them. Not admitting it to himself until much later, when she spoke those words to him, that challenge, it was all he could do not to press her body up against the wall with his and take her right there.

"Zack said you wanted to see me." Her voice came out softer than he'd ever heard it, and more so than she'd intended. She stood in the doorway, watching him watch Cleo Eller on the TV screen.

"Is that something you don't like to talk about? Families? A look that could only be described as total dejection flashed across her eyes before she quickly schooled her features and turned to leave. He had cut her deep, he knew that, but it was the only way he knew how to get under her hard protective shell. "Temperance."

The compassion and demand in his voice made her stop in her tracks, then turn around. "Partners share things." She felt the burn of tears behind her eyes but refused to let them show. She met Booth's warm brown eyes, seeing a new level of compassion there that she'd never seen before. She couldn't figure out why it was different. She knew Booth was by nature a compassionate person, but something about this was different. _Partners._ She was not sure if she appreciated the phrase or not, but something about it felt right, made sense. "It builds trust."

Her logical brain kicked in, pushing the psychology of the moment out of her mind. "Since when are we partners?"

Something in Booth's expression changed as well, hardened, but it was too late. The seed had been planted. "I apologize for the assumption."

Booth and Brennan walked away from the funeral, falling in step as they proceeded across the grass to the sidewalk. She watched as Cleo's parents mourned their daughter, and Booth stood silently next to her.

"If it wasn't for you, those people would never have known what happened to their daughter."

He listened as she spoke briefly about her parents. She listened as he spoke of being a sniper. In that moment, Booth realized, though Brennan probably wouldn't admit it, they had apologized to each other. The past was the past, and everything was alright between them. She gave him a playful shove as they headed towards his truck.

_They were silent for several minutes as they drove down the busy D.C. streets. The air was pleasant, and Brennan cracked her window, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. Booth glanced over, following the line of her jaw up to her ear, and down her neck. Grinning to himself, he turned back to the road. Instead of driving to the Jeffersonian, he pulled up to a small diner several blocks away. Brennan looked up when they stopped. "Where are we, Booth?"_

_He glanced over, turning off the truck. "I'm hungry and you're buying. This place has the best pie in D.C." He got out and headed across the street, Brennan several behind him, working to keep up._

"_Why am I buying? I'm not even hungry." He pulled the diner door open for her, leading her to a small table by the window._

"_You're buying because your book is on the New York Times best sellers list, and because the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." He gave her a quick grin, picking up the menu, perusing the desert section._

"_That's highly incorrect." She stared at him for a moment before picking up a menu herself. He glanced up, confused for a moment, his humor totally lost on her._

"_It was a joke, Bones." The waitress came over, and he ordered a piece of apple pie, and was pleasantly surprised when she ordered a chocolate shake._

_Silence overtook them again once their orders were placed and Brennan glanced out the window, watching people walk by. Booth took that opportunity again to observe her. Her bangs fell delicately against her cheekbone and her blue eyes looked almost clear from the side. "I _do_ consider us partners, Temperance." Her eyes darted over to meet his, and just as she was going to speak the waitress came back setting down the plate and glass. Booth smiled at her, and then glanced back to Brennan. "You're the best at what you do, and I couldn't have solved this case without you."_

_She eyed him for a moment, sizing him up, trying to decide where this was coming from. "You said earlier that squints belong in a lab." She meant it factually, but saw a look of hurt flash across Booth's face._

"_I know, but I was wrong. I was angry, and I took it out on you and your team." He stabbed at his pie, taking a small bite from the crust end. "I'd like your help, if you're willing."_

_She took a sip of her milk shake, and then set it down. She eyed him for a moment again, then held her hand out. "That is an acceptable offer." Booth grinned, licking a crumb off his lower lip and taking her delicate hand in his, squeezing it gently. _

"_I'm sorry I had you held at the airport." His eyes became serious, and she tried to determine the emotion behind the change, but once again, could not. "I didn't know what else to do to get your attention."_

_She grinned softly at him, and it touched his heart in a way that nothing else had before. "I accept your apology, Booth."_

"_Thanks, Bones." He grinned again, the dark look flitting away before being replaced with something else. _

_He finished his pie at the exact moment he heard her slurping up the foamy remnants of her milkshake. She reached for her purse, but he placed a hand on top of hers. "I've got it." He pulled out his wallet and threw a ten dollar bill on the table._

"_But you told me I had to pay, since I'm on the New York Times best sellers list." She focused on him questioningly, not understanding his changing logic._

"_Well then it would be an honor for me to buy the author of a best-selling book a milk shake." He stood up, grinning at her as she placed her wallet back in her bag. She stood as well and followed him out the door. "You want a ride home, Bones?"_

"_No, thank you Booth. I still have a lot of work to do." Still, she followed him towards his truck. When they arrived at the driver's door, she couldn't wait any longer._

"_Have you even read my book?" She turned on a dime to eye him, their height almost matched with her in heels._

_A rushing feeling circulated out from his heart, through his arms and legs, and came to rest back in his chest. Reaching out gently, he pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and behind her ears. Leaning forward he brushed a kiss along her cheekbone. "It's good to have you back, Bones." And with that he got in his truck and pulled away from the curb, smiling lightly towards her in the side view mirror and she watching him for a moment, then turned and began walking back to the Jeffersonian._

_What she didn't know was that late that night, long after she'd gone to bed, Booth sat in his dark living room, feet propped up on his coffee table, turning the page to the last chapter of her book. He'd pulled the copy he'd bought at the airport out of his desk drawer and began reading it as soon as he got home._

_By the first page he was hooked. By the end of the first chapter he knew he couldn't put it down until he was finished._

_By the time his eyes were burning as he read the contents of the last page, finally closing the binding on the book, only to see her face on the book jacket looking knowingly up at him, he knew that he could not survive without Temperance Brennan._

_**Thank you so much for hanging with me through that. I'm thinking this will be the format for further fics, but I think each episode will dictate that. Please feel free to review or criticize as you see fit…I really want to get this right. Thanks again, and see you next episode.**_

_**DISCLAIMER – I OWN NOTHING, I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS OR THE DIALOGUE, OR THE STORYLINES OF THE EPISODES! I JUST HAVE FUN TRYING TO DISECT THEM =)**_


	2. The Man in the SUV

**Ok, so if you're reading this, I'm hoping it means that you liked the first story ok. =) So, we can now assume that the kiss in my first story didn't happen, since these are all one shots, so we are starting fresh, but as Booth and Brennan's relationship develops on the show, I will use that to develop them (hopefully faster) here. I really have no idea where these are going to go, but its fun for me to go back to the DVD's and re-watch all the older episodes. Alright, here we go for round two.**

**DISCLAIMER – DON'T OWN 'EM, JUST LIKE TO GO ALL DR. SWEETS ON THEIR ASS :)**

Booth arrived at the crime scene later than he had expected, and he knew that there was a good chance that Bones was already there. Hell, he knew she probably would be, since he'd told her he'd meet her and Angela there. As he parked his car and came around the corner, his eyes searched for her, and finally found her next to an ambulance.

Even as Angela asked about the smell that came from the exploded Jeep, Booth couldn't help but watch as Brennan pulled her hair into a ponytail, his eyes catching the tiniest glimpse of the flesh of her stomach as she reached up. The fluttering feeling in his chest was quickly tamped down as the smell of the corpse hit his nose as well.

Booth watched as Brennan surveyed the scene, going into scientist mode flawlessly. She glanced around, taking in the perimeter, pulling on latex gloves. She stepped away from the Jeep, pausing when she spotted a leg and foot inside the blown off driver's door. Booth watched her eye the bones and remaining tissue, her brow furrowing. Her lips pursed into a small pout. "You know, it's ok to be upset, " his own gut twisting at all the blood and pain surrounding him.

"I wish this is the worst thing I'd seen." Her voice had a different quality to it. She felt genuine remorse for the victim, and although it didn't shock Booth, it surprised him. He knew she was strong, stronger than him when it came to this aspect of a case, but he had seen a glimmer of a feeling that she kept buried deep down inside her. For the briefest of moments, he'd seen her hidden sorrow. But, just as swiftly as it had crossed her face, her delicate features smoothed out and her eyes iced over as she went back to work.

When Brenna argued with Agent Gibson, Booth couldn't help but smile inside. He knew the FBI relationship with the Jeffersonian was pulled taught with a very fine thread, and one wrong move would snap it. He knew the squints were the best of the best, but convincing Cullen of that, as well as keeping relations with Dr. Goodman on the up and up was a primary concern at all times. However, when Brennan got fired up, and those blue eyes shone with passion, Booth was mesmerized. Keeping it to himself, he gave Agent Gibson a shrug and followed Brennan as she strode away from the platform.

"This is my lab. I'm a scientist. I'm a doctor." Brenna stormed off towards her office, not liking having to come to terms with answering to a higher authority. As far as she was concerned, in her lab, she _was_ the highest authority.

"Yeah, so I've heard." Booth was letting the case get to him, as he always did, and was taking it out on the squints again. He tried to reign his composure back in, but there was something about a feisty Brennan that made him lose control.

"Would you be able to do your job if someone was looking over your shoulder all the time?" She could feel him behind her, emphasizing her own point against her, and it infuriated her even more. She could practically feel his breath on the back of her neck.

"You do, OK. I developed a tolerance." Booth was playing devil's advocate, and though he was still frustrated, he was gleaning a small bit of satisfaction from this argument.

She huffed out a sigh. "I'm sorry but I don't understand the advantage of compromise."

"It's a terrorist attack, Bones. It's bigger than you and it's bigger than me."

She honestly did not understand his logic, and she wasn't sure if she was more exasperated at him, or frustrated with herself at not being _able_ to understand. "But the job is the same."

Now he was angry. He was a patriot, through and through, and his experience in the military had taught him that terrorism was one of the most heinous crimes imaginable. "No, it's not! We are dealing with someone here who devalues an entire culture. Terrorizing people by using God to justify mass murder." _Don't you dare argue with me Bones. _

She immediately noticed his eyes go from dark brown to almost black. His passion for his country and for what's right struck her, but she still couldn't understand the logic of his statement. "You're making it personal. That doesn't help." She leaned against the doorframe of her office, trying desperately to get inside his head and understand his argument, psychology be damned.

His voice dropped to a powerful whisper. "It is personal, Bones. All of us die a little bit on one like this." His eyes immediately flashed back to a warm brown, and she realized that whatever he was feeling, it was much bigger and stronger than she realized. All she could do was look at him and sigh.

Booth approached Brennan's office later that day, after the interrogation of Mazruk's wife. He slowed when he heard Angela and Brennan talking. He couldn't help but listen to the women, curious what the friends might be discussing. He listened to Angela invite Brennan to a club. Before he realized it, he was mentioned in their conversation as well.

"We'll grab Booth." His heart skipped a beat. His mind was flooded with images of himself and Brennan on the dance floor at a night club, neon lights flashing, Brennan's hips swaying to the music.

"No." Brennan shot him down without even realizing it, and though his ego was stung, he couldn't push the images out of his head.

"I think he likes you." Angela spoke and Booth could hear the smile in her voice. "God, if I were you, I'd buy a ticket on that ride." Booth grinned to himself, making a mental note to send Angela a thank you card.

Several images of her own flashed through Brennan's mind, and not wanting to deal with them, she let logic override them. "Look, I'm going to be very busy this weekend. Even after the ID, I have these." Booth couldn't tell what she was talking about, but he leaned a smidge closer to her office door, listening harder.

"Remains from World War I?" It wasn't really a question, but Angela spoke the words in an exasperated tone.

Right then Booth glanced up, and he was glad he did, because at that moment Zack was approaching Brennan's office so he quickly turned and walked away, images of Brennan in a little black dress still flitting through his brain.

Booth was pulling on his shirt the next day when he heard the knock on the door. _Shit. Not now._ He opened the door and there she was. He felt a flush rise up in his cheeks as he quickly pulled one of the buttons of his shirt closed. This was _not_ how he wanted Brennan to find out about Tessa. He didn't even _want_ Brennan to find out about Tessa. However, he didn't want Tessa to know that He pulled the door open to Brennan's face. She showed him her findings thus far, and just as she was about to invite him to an early lunch…

"Hey." He heard Tessa speak, and turned around to see her, standing in the doorway in underwear and one of his dress shirts. _Shit shit SHIT!_ Although he should feel proud that he had a beautiful blonde in his apartment, all he could feel was guilt at the quickest flash of hurt he saw in the eyes of the brunette next to him.

Awkward introductions were made, and Booth wanted nothing more than for this exchange to be over. He gave Tessa a kiss that hopefully quelled any suspicion she might have about his hasty retreat, but breathed a silent sigh of relief as he closed the door on his apartment.

Angela was sitting silently in Wong Foos when, even with headphones in, she heard her friend bickering with Agent Booth. Angela knew they had been questioning Hamid's wife, and apparently it hadn't gone as planned.

"She was having an affair!" Booth bellowed as they entered. Brennan was quick to counter.

"I'm sorry, but that's an offensive assumption." Angela grinned to herself, watching the storm that was Booth and Brennan enter the restaurant and sit down at the bar.

"Well all the signs are there."

"You can't make wild accusations about somebody's personal life based on a feeling." Was she more frustrated that Booth would assume the worst, or because she was envious of Booth ability to read people.

It really threw her for a loop working with Booth. They couldn't be more opposite, and each time their differences rose to the surface, which seemed to be more and more often on this case, she couldn't help but admire Booth's abilities in these situations. She was, however, logical enough to know that the facts were more important, and tried to tamp down her jealousy over his skills.

They bickered back and forth, and Angela couldn't help but grin again, this time getting up to join them. She sat down next to Booth, and he felt overwhelmed for a moment. Worried at how the direction of the conversation would go, he tried to direct the thoughts right back to Brennan. However, that didn't work out so well because she brought up Tessa. _Shit again. _Angela picked right up on that.

He was surprised though, when Angela began siding with him in the argument about Mazruk's wife and the affair. He could see the anger in Brennan's eyes as she spewed her logic and reasoning at them. How could they not understand?

Logic was the easiest thing in the world for her to relate to. Two plus two equals four. Metacarpals sit superior to the phalanges. Rage filled her mind at the cocky look on Booth's face when Angela sided with him. She knew it showed on her face, but she didn't care. It was how she felt, and just as they were devaluing her reasoning system, she felt that they were devaluing her, and the science that she held in such esteem.

"Alright, I will be in the lab, getting us some real facts." And with that she got up and left the restaurant. Booth sighed, not realizing how confused, and worse, hurt his partner was.

As Booth sped furiously through the intersections of Washington D.C., he didn't know what was more distracting; the case that seemed to be going nowhere, or the spicy, coconut smell of Brennan's perfume. Each time he took in a deep breath to try to calm his nerves, his senses were flooded with Brennan. Her voice, her smell, her warmth in the seat next to him. It was almost too much to take. He tried to think about Tessa, but could only think of Brennan coming to his apartment that morning, and the look on her face when Tessa walked into the living room.

He should be happy. Tessa was a beautiful and intelligent woman. What was wrong with her? Nothing. So why couldn't he stop thinking about Brennan and her coconut perfume? He didn't know.

"We'll find out who killed him, Booth. We've got Hamid's body. You can always count on the dead." It was just a statement, but it pulled at Booth's heartstrings. Brennan had meant it as encouragement, but it meant so much more than that. Brennan was expressing her concern for the case as well, and gave her promise that everything would be ok. Booth looked over at her, and though she was looking out the window, he felt like she was looking right through him. His heart felt a little bit lighter.

"There's trouble in paradise." Angela's singsong voice floated up the stairs just before she did. Brennan glanced up, a bit faster than she meant to, her thoughts immediately going to Booth. _That's irrational_, she thought to herself. Angela could be talking about anything. She tried to focus on the rest of what Angela and the others were saying, only firmly able to disregard the statement that Angela was spying for her. The rest of her brain was buzzing at the thought of Booth and Tessa breaking up. She knew, rationally, that she should feel bad for Booth if it were indeed true. But a small part of her brain felt jealous at the thought of Booth spending time with another woman. It was an incredibly small part, and she was easily able to brush it away, but it was still there, lingering.

"What?" Booth spoke, and Brennan spun around, not realizing he had come up to the platform.

"Nothing." But she had never told such a lie.

When they questioned LadJavardi , Booth knew he couldn't be the one in charge. He would have to hand over the reins to Brennan, and he was ok with that. He knew she was fierce and dedicated to the job. What he didn't know was how fierce. When LadJavardi tried to get past her, she took him down with skill that he'd never seen outside of the military. When she thrust her foot down on his windpipe to keep him immobile, it was all Booth could do to keep his composure. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh, slap Brennan a high five, or kiss her. All he knew was that she was making a better and more interesting partner every day.

"You know, you don't have to come." Booth spoke the words, knowing they would probably be ignored, but he was heading into an extremely dangerous situation with an extremely predictable man. He didn't want anything coming between him and Farid, and he didn't want anything to happen to Bones.

"You've gotta be kidding me." He didn't even have to look at her to know the expression in her eyes, the look of determination on her face. Subconsciously he pressed the gas pedal a little closer to the floor.

They leaned over the railing, both frantically searching for Farid. Booth was looking for a backpack or computer bag. Anything that could be holding a bomb. Brennan was looking at the heights of the males around her, at their shoulders and the way they walked. "I'm not taking out a target, Bones, unless I'm sure." The words were meant for her, but he didn't glance in her direction, his russet eyes darting this way and that.

"Is that how you make it easier – calling him a target?" Brennan was genuinely curious.

They continued walking quickly down the railway. "You know, you really picked an odd time to have this conversation." And immediately she realized her error. Logic had forced the question to be spoken, but rationally it was not the appropriate time for this conversation. She was still curious, though, and made a silent promise to ask him about it later.

Brennan spotted him first, trying urgently to explain to Booth that the man walking below was Farid. Brennan was sure, one hundred percent. Booth was not. Brennan was desperate for Booth to understand. "I need a face! I need a _face!_" And in that moment Brennan realized…they were a perfect match for each other. Brennan had the brains and Booth had the heart. She had the science and he had the psychology, and even though she hated psychology, she realized in that moment that Booth had it and it was a necessary evil. She squeezed the railing tighter as this realization hit her. She had everything he lacked, and he had everything that she lacked. And in that moment, they both had the same thing.

"Farid!" She shouted, and the man below turned around, looking up.

Realization exploded through Booth and his hand gripped the gun a bit tighter, bringing it up in front of his eyes, seeing the man below in front of the sights. When he saw Farid open the bag, he didn't hesitate. He shot. He killed.

They sat together, later that night, at the bar at Wong Foos. Brennan felt as though she'd been through a battle. Her mind was tired, and though she tried to feel, emotionally, for her partner, she was at a loss. She leaned her head on her hand, watching him. He stared at his almost empty glass of beer, a mix of emotion behind his brown eyes. She normally would have taken this moment to study him, to analyze him, but not tonight. Tonight, she just listened and was there. She had no idea that it was _exactly_ what Booth needed.

She didn't understand why Booth didn't want credit for Farid. Booth had been a hero today, and had saved many lives, including her own. It wasn't at all logical. "I thought you F.B.I. guys liked your medals." She toyed with the stem of her wine glass. She didn't look over, and Booth didn't look up.

"No pleasure in taking someone's life." He took another sip of beer, and this time she turned her head to watch him. His next words were barely above a whisper, and his voice carried a sadness that stemmed from long before this day, and this kill. "Nothing to celebrate."

She reached over, laying her hand on his arm, just above his wristwatch. He tipped his head down to watch as her fingers lightly covered his forearm. He hand was warm, and comforting. It didn't make the hurt go away, but the ache in his heart loosened its grip just a bit.

"You saved so many people, Booth. Don't forget that." He glanced up at her, and she smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. It just said, '_I know' _ and he couldn't help but smile back. In that moment, the pain in his heart was slowly suppressed by a new feeling, and he wasn't sure how to describe or name it, but the ache changed, and for the moment, he felt content.

"Another drink?"

Brennan took a deep breath, a flurry of thoughts circling around in her head, but she let out a sigh. "Shouldn't you be getting home?" She barely noticed the change in Booth's face as he raised his guard back up. Brennan looked away. "Tessa will be worried about you."

And with that, his face set in a sad determination, and as he paid his tab, he stopped just behind Brennan, needing to feel her nearness one more time before the night was over. "Thanks for your help, Bones."

She turned and saw him, just before he left, and she caught his reflection in the mirror by the door. She had never seen such a sad look on his face before. No, sad wasn't the right emotion. She wasn't good with emotion, but the look on his face, in that moment, to her, was sad. She turned back to her drink, not at all interested in finishing it, and, paying her own tab, she headed back to the Jeffersonian.

_It was nearly three in the morning when Brennan headed out of the Jeffersonian and towards her car. She just clicked the unlock button on her key fob when her cell phone rang. Fishing it out of her coat pocket, he hit the send button without looking at the caller-id. "Brennan."_

"_Hey, Bones. I didn't wake you did I?" She sat down in her car, stunned that Booth would be calling her this late, or at all._

"_Booth? No, I'm just leaving the Jeffersonian. Is everything all right?" She closed her car door, but didn't start the engine. _

"_Everything's fine. I just, uh, wondered if I could come over for a minute." He didn't want to tell her that he was sitting outside her building at that moment, staring up at her bedroom window. He had imagined that she was up there, sleeping soundly. He pictured the way her hair might lay across the pillow, or the sound of her calm breathing in and out._

"_Yes, that's fine Booth. I'll be there in about twenty minutes." She clicked her phone off, intrigued at what could be so important. With that she started her car and headed home._

_Booth sat in his truck for a while then decided to wait on her front steps. The night air was cool and a slight breeze blew down the street and across his face. It smelled of cigarette smoke and barbeque sauce. He glanced down the street at an approaching car, but it wasn't her. He looked down at the keys in his hand, spinning them around by the ring._

_Brennan saw him as she approached. He was sitting on her steps, still wearing the same clothes that he had been earlier that night at Wong Foos. His blue shirtsleeves were still rolled up to his elbows, but the once crisp shirt was now wrinkled, making his look haggard. He was staring at something in his hands. She felt that same wave of sadness flow over her again at the sight of him. She pulled up to the curb, and turned off the car._

_He didn't see her as she approached him, and it wasn't until she was standing right in front of him that she realized he knew she was coming._

"_It doesn't make it easier." He didn't look up, just kept staring at his keys. Brennan didn't know what to do, so she sat down next to him._

"_What isn't easier?" She turned slightly, willing him to look at her._

"_Calling them targets. It doesn't matter what you do to try to rationalize or justify a kill. It's still murder." Booth's face contorted into a pain that Brennan knew wasn't physical. But it was physical for her. Her heart hurt for her partner as she watched the turmoil twist his features into something that wasn't him. She reached out, tentatively, and took his hand in hers. It was more to stop the motion of his keys, but he dropped them to the concrete steps, grasping her hand tightly in his. It took her by surprise, but she didn't pull away. "No matter what I tell myself, nothing makes it OK to kill someone, Bones."_

_Finally he looked up, and the compassion he saw in her eyes would have just about brought him to his knees had he not been sitting down. She squeezed his hand._

"_That's not logical, Booth. You do what you do to save lives. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one, in every situation across history. You being a sniper and killing in a war, or killing Farid tonight; the principle holds."_

_Booth chuckled low, deep in his throat. "You're going all Dr. Spock on me, Bones." His voice was a whisper, but it carried a bit less sadness. She furrowed her brow._

"_I don't know what that means." She froze when she felt his thumb trace several slow circles across her palm._

"_It means, thank you." He pulled his hand away and she was surprised at the feeling of loss when her own was empty. "I just feel really alone sometimes, Bones. Like no one gets me." He turned to look at her, her azure eyes shining from the street lights above them._

"_I feel like that too, Booth." She tipped her head, giving him a faint grin that he couldn't help but reciprocate. "But you have Tessa." She meant to point this out as an attribute, but it sent a twinge through his heart._

"_She hasn't been around much lately. It's for the best I think. She's just not that into my deal all the time." Brennan didn't know what that meant, but didn't want to say so a second time. Instead she just sat silently next to him._

"_You really feel alone sometimes, Bones?" He turned to her, somewhat amazed that someone as beautiful and smart as her could ever be alone._

"_Well naturally, my superior intellect does make it hard for people to relate to me." He wasn't sure if that was a slam against people like him, or a short coming of her own. "And my lack of social skills does make it difficult to communicate with many people. It does make relationship and even friendships a challenge." Yep, definitely a list of her short comings, at least how she saw them._

_When Booth spoke, it was with a tenderness that Brennan had never heard from him before. "Bones, you don't lack in anything." He looked up, unbelieving that her eyes were brimming with tears. One escaped down her cheek and he brushed it away with him thumb, his other fingers curling lightly around the back of her neck. She shied away from his touch slightly, but Booth didn't let her gaze falter from his. "Anything."_

"_Are you going all Dr. Spock on me now Booth?" It was a whispered question, and Booth couldn't help but chuckle. She didn't understand, but since this Dr. Spock seemed to mean thank you, it seemed logical to say it._

"_Yeah, Bones." He turned to her again, and was surprised to see her pulling two keys off her key ring. She held them out to him. Puzzled, he looked from the keys back to Brennan's intense gaze. "What are these for?"_

"_They're keys, Booth." He put his hand up, knowing the next words out of her mouth would be something to the effect of, 'they unlock things.' She gave a small huff of a sigh, then began again. "This one is to my apartment, and this one is to my lab." She placed them in his palm. "In case you ever feel lonely." She smiled softly at him, and Booth couldn't help the swelling feeling in his heart. His mood elevating even more, and he decided teasing her a little would be ok._

"_You trying to seduce me, Bones?" He played with the keys for a moment in his hand, then reached for his own key ring and strung hers on alongside his._

"_No, I was mer-" but she stopped as his chuckle grew louder. "Now you're just making fun of me." But she couldn't help but smile too._

"_Thanks, Bones." He held her gaze for a moment longer, losing himself in the depth of those blue eyes, then finally stood up. "I should get going. I have an early meeting with Cullen tomorrow." He reached down, and she took his hand once again as he helped her up. She smiled, then slowly and perhaps a bit hesitantly drew her hand away from his._

"_See you tomorrow, Booth."_

"_See you tomorrow Bones." She turned and let herself into her apartment, and he made his way slowly to his truck and then home._

_As he walked inside, tossing his keys down onto the table, he couldn't help but stare at them for a moment. He smiled, palming his keys again, running the pad of his thumb over the two new additions. With another smile to himself he set the keys down once again and headed to bed. Even though Tessa was gone, and might not ever be coming back, for the first time in a long time, Booth didn't feel lonely._

_**Whew. Thanks for hanging with me again. That one felt a lot more dialog-y than the last one, and I tried to cut some of it out, but I think a lot of it was important in helping develop their characters and the relationship between them…and their differences too. Please feel free to critique as you see fit…I would actually appreciate it! And if you liked it, please let me know…I hope I'm not crazy for writing these, but there are some tv shows where the chemistry is so amazing between the characters, that my psychology-brain can't help but dissect it. **_

_**Mulder and Scully were my TV crush until I met Booth and Brennan =**_**)**

**Hope some of you got the Star Trek movie reference…otherwise I'm a total square LOL**

_**Thanks again everyone, and see you next time.**_


	3. The Boy in a Tree

**Alright, here we go for episode three :)**

Driving to Hanover Prep was more stressful that Booth thought it would be. Between the beautiful turquoise shirt that Brennan was wearing and Zack's nagging sex questions, Booth couldn't focus on the facts of the case. Cullen had called him in early that morning to brief him on the scene at the school, and as Booth tried to recall everything of that conversation now, he could not.

Though Booth called Brennan _his_ forensic anthropologist, Brennan couldn't help but feel a bit of a warm feeling spread through her. The more she worked with Booth, the nicer it was to feel needed; increasing her purpose. She too, however, quickly dropped into work mode, and began her investigation.

When Booth was questioning the Hanover headmaster, he wasn't expecting Brennan's phone call, and he wished that he'd silenced his phone. Excusing himself, he answered.

"Booth."

"We'll have the identity of the boy in the tree within the hour." Brennan spoke confidently, almost arrogantly as she leaned back in her office chair, twirling the cochlear implant between her thumb and fingers.

"That was fast." Booth turned in an attempt at some privacy, as he knew the other men in the room were keen on hearing this conversation.

"Do you know what a cochlear implant is?" Brennan posed the question.

"Hearing aid?" He spared a glance back at the two men before turning around again.

"Not – not exactly. It's a much more sophisticated piece of equipment which was surgically fitted – " But Booth cut her off.

"Can you identify him through the serial number?" He tried to look bored, but his heart rate picked up a touch.

"That's correct. But the interesting thing is that – " but he cut her off again.

"You can fill me in later."

She was confused. "Wait – No – But the interesting thing is that his – "

"That's correct." Now she was more than confused. She totally didn't understand what was going on.

"What?"

"That is interesting."

"Are you drunk or something?"

"We'll catch up later and, uh – " She didn't understand why he didn't want to know her findings. The whole point of them working together was so that crimes could be solved, and he wasn't helping her to that end, and wasn't allowing her to help him.

"Wait! Wait! I'm not completely certain the boy's death is a suicide." The tone of her voice changed, and there was an edge of pleading to it.

"We'll grab some Chinese food, and you can fill me in later on all the boring details." And with that he hung up, leaving Brennan listening to dead air and wondering why.

"What do you mean, it's not a suicide?" Brennan was looking at an X-Ray when the security alarms around the platform went off. His voice grated on her nerves.

After he had so rudely hung up on her, she realized that she was being blown off. And it made her mad. She had valid information about the case, and was completely ignored by her partner, and she didn't understand why.

Booth jumped as the alarm sounded. "What the hell is that?"

Brennan's cool voice was back to arrogant when she spoke. "We can't have just anyone step into the forensics area and contaminate all the boring details." She meant for the words to sting, and unbeknownst to her, they did…

Zack scanned his ID badge and the alarm stopped. Booth huffed his way up the steps. " 'Boring details' was my signal for you to stop talking, okay? I want my own card."

Brennan countered right back in a voice laced with ice. "I want my own gun." She hadn't looked up at him yet, and if she had, she would have seen the barely there look of pleading on Booth's face. He wasn't great at apologies, but this was his.

"Last time you had a gun, you shot someone."

And so they continued on, bickering, though Brennan, through Zack, gave up the boy's identity as Nestor Olivos. Booth was satisfied. "What else?"

Brennan's voice, if possible, was even more cold and condescending. "You want all the boring details?"

Booth picked up the x-ray that Brennan had discarded. "Let it go, Bones."

"Don't call me Bones!" The words were spoken through clenched teeth as she snatched the x-ray back. She hadn't shunned away from his nickname for her in several weeks, and Booth felt the surge of anger hit him square in the chest, and it was then that he'd realized that he'd offended her by ignoring her, and that didn't sit well with him. He promised himself that he'd make it up to her.

Later at the FBI, Brennan was faced with one of the most difficult choices of her career. Agent Santana explained clearly that Booth wasn't allowed to investigate this case if it was proven that Nestor committed suicide. However, if the case wasn't investigated, Brennan wouldn't know for sure if it _was_ a murder. She was in a catch 22, and didn't know what to do. Though she was still furious at Booth for his dismissal of her, she knew, deep down, that he wanted the truth just as much as she did. Even Dr. Goodman's philosophical quips didn't make her decision easier.

"They're saying it's my call." Brennan turned to her boss. Booth waited in anticipation at the side of the conference table.

Everyone waited in the silence of the room. Brennnan's cobalt eyes looked calculating from Santana to Booth.

Booth watched her lips tighten into a pucker as she worked her teeth together. He was willing her to make the right choice, but knew that his attitude towards her made his chances slim.

He could almost feel air being pulled away from him as Brennan drew breath to speak. "My official finding is that Nestor Olivos…" she glanced at Santana again, then her eyes flashed to Dr. Goodman, "…was the victim of a homicide."

Booth let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. A grin played at one side of his mouth but he quickly schooled his features, glancing at Brennan, hoping to convey his silent gratitude.

"Thank you." Booth glanced over at his passenger. She seemed to be paying more attention to the radio than him as they left the FBI building.

She sighed in surrender. "For what?"

"You know, for going with my instincts in there."

"No, I did not back up your instincts. I bought time to find the facts that I need to tell me what happened to Nestor Olivos." She paused, her brow furrowing in a small crease between her eyebrows. "What's with you and the private school?"

Booth's voice took on a hard edge. This was _not_ where he wanted this conversation to go. "I thought we understood each other."

"That's bad? I understand – " She was completely at a loss sometimes with Booth.

"I don't like people who think they're better than other people."

Now Brennan was mad again. Her rational mind pushed aside all other thoughts of the case. "Some people are better than other people."

And now Booth was mad again. His patriotic mind pushed aside all other thoughts of the case. "You know, what you just said right there, that is so un-American. All men are created equal. Either you believe that, or you don't." He gave her the briefest of fleeting glances then turned his attention back to the road; sure that he'd made his point.

He was wrong.

"Some people are smarter than others. There's no use being offended by the fact." She turned to him, pleading not to him, but to herself, to convey her thoughts in a way that he would understand. She couldn't comprehend why he _didn't_ understand. In return, he just scoffed.

There was silence between them as the radio played on softly.

They spoke about informing Nestor's parents of his death…"and we are."

"What?" Brennan turned to him again, letting out a frustrated but silent whoosh of air.

"Sorry for their loss. It's sad. Try to remember that."

It was Brennan's turn to scoff. "I'm not a sociopath."

"You're bad with people. No use being offended by the fact." He threw her own words back at her, trying to make a point. He didn't realize that his words had cut right down into her heart. Her eyes filled with unshed tears, and she willed them not to fall. Grinding her teeth together, she turned her attention back to the road.

Booth didn't know what he was feeling when he left Angela's office. Brennan was going to rule Nestor's death a suicide, and it made Booth sick. He knew there was something going on here, and Brennan was putting on blinders to the majority of the facts. He knew this was a murder, he _knew it._ But Brennan couldn't reach past the realm of her logic and her reasoning and her rational thinking. He paced back and forth outside the Jeffersonian for several minutes, then stormed back inside, bent on arguing with Brennan until he was blue in the face. This case would not be taken away from him until the murder…_murder_ was solved.

He approached the platform quickly, but stopped when he saw Brennan standing off to the side, a picture of Nestor Olivos in her hand. There was a look on her face that could only be described as despair, and his anger left him. He tried to remember why he'd come back, but he was in a trance watching her. He could almost hear the gears in her mind desperately trying to figure out the logic of the case, and why Booth was so vehement that this was murder. He began to walk towards her again but Angela stepped up behind her first.

"Honey?" Brennan turned her head a fraction of an inch, the look of sadness almost increasing on her face. It pulled at Booth's heart. "Did you ever just believe something despite the evidence? Just know it was true?" Angela looked longingly at her friend, knowing Temperance was in a far off place with her own thoughts.

"No." And the next words out of her mouth were the last that Booth ever expected. He could barely hear her, but his very being was tuned to her, listening to hear. "I've hoped things. But I've always known the difference between hope and fact. You know, all that's left of this boy is a table full of bones. Now everyone he's ever known has an agenda; his parents, his school, even the cop investigating his death." Her throat hitched at the word 'death' and Booth felt his heart do the same. "You know, I'm the only one who cares about the truth of what Nestor's life came to in the end, good or bad. And I know the truth is more important than anything else." It was meant as a declaration, but both Booth and Angela could tell that she was just trying to convince herself. Booth felt his Adam's apple bob in his throat. This was a side to Brennan that he'd never seen before. When Angela spoke again, it was as if she were channeling Booth's thoughts, speaking them to Brennan when he could not.

"You know, or you hope it's true?" Booth took a deep breath, waiting for Brennan's next words. He watched her chest heave up and down as she breathed deeply, trying to control the raw nerves that this case was uncovering for her.

"Suicide is the most rational, logical explanation. What I believe doesn't matter. What makes me sad doesn't matter."

Angela turned over the sketch pad in her hand, showing Brennan her rendering of Nestor. "Look at this face. He did not kill himself." Brennan turned, and Booth wished he could see the look in her eyes, to see if Angela was getting through to her where he could not.

"Angela, I need a little more proof than a nice drawing." Angela handed over the sketch pad.

"I can do that."

At that moment, Booth promised himself that he'd do his best to never make Brennan sad again, because regardless of what Brennan said…it did matter.

Their meeting with Ambassador Olivos was quick. They explained what happened and why. When she turned to go, Brennan stopped her. "Ambassador Olivos?" Booth, confused, stayed where he was in the office, hands clasped in front of him, watching the two women in front of him. "You told me that all a mother wants is to know that she's raised her child well…" Tears sprung up into the ambassador's eyes, but she didn't speak. "…that your biggest regret is that you'll never know if Nestor would've grown up to be a good man." She handed the picture of Nestor over to his mother, and she took it gently. "But he was a good man. He died because he was trying to do the right thing." The ambassador looked as though she wanted to say something, but instead turned to leave, but not before letting one tear escape and slide down her cheek.

Finally Booth approached his partner. "Very impressive, Temperance. Got that one right." Had there been anyone else in the room, they would not have heard his words, and though his tone was laced with a hint of sarcasm, he didn't mean it that way, and Brennan knew it. She couldn't help but smile at his apology and she felt a hint of a blush cross her cheeks.

Booth grinned, knowing she understood, and with that he left her office as well.

Brennan caught up with him and they silently walked over to Wong Foos together. Booth's eyes immediately fell on Angela and Zack and his territoriality kicked into high gear. "Oh, no. This isn't gonna work. I mean, this is my place. Sid?" Brennan headed over to sit next to her friend.

"As long as they keep it down on the subject of rotten corpses and bodily fluids, I have no beef at all." Booth unbuttoned his cuffs, letting out a sigh of defeat. Booth vaguely heard Hodgins talking about heartburn, but he was not interested.

"Okay, fine. New rules." He spoke so everyone could hear him. He moved to stand closer to the table where Zack, Angela and Brennan sat. "That counter is mine. That booth is yours." They all stared at him with confused stares. "Everything else around here, all right, is mine." Hodgins turned around from the bar to watch Booth motion to the tables around the restaurant. "All right? Mine. M-I-N-E. Mine." Booth sat down with a huff next to Hodgins, who looked questioningly back at him, as if waiting for a punch line that would never be delivered. The look on Booth's face said it all, and, picking up his soup bowl and spoon, Jack got up from the counter and headed over to the table.

Brennan, knowing the air had been cleared between them, had no compunction interrupting Booth's counter-time solidarity. Booth was about to protest when she spoke. "I've been thinking about your whole 'something stinks' aptitude."

"Oh yeah?" He sorted the pretzels in the bowl in front of him, tossing one in his mouth.

"I think you have a subconscious knack for reading body language. Stress in the voice, other subtle yet discernable indicators." He felt like this was a compliment. "It's not mysterious, but it is impressive. And in the future…I will try to accord it an appropriate degree of objective worth." Booth could feel his ego inflating to double its normal size.

"Thank you, Temperance. I appreciate that. So, uh," He took a bite of his own dinner. "What part of 'This is mine.' Did you not understand?" It sounded insulting, but he grinned at her, her blue eyes calculating, but not upset. "Do I have to say it in Latin?"

She grinned, standing up to let him eat his meal in peace, missing the second, larger grin that crossed his face. She spoke a Latin phrase to him, setting down a small plastic card next to his cup of coffee. Without another word she walked back over to sit with Angela and the others.

He picked up the card, seeing that it was an access pass to the lab, with his picture on the front. He grinned again, not caring if they were all staring at him. In fact probably none of them were. No doubt they were immersed in some conversation about government conspiracy, sex positions or decomposing corpses. He didn't care. He grinned at the card once more. "Nice." With that, he continued eating, feeling a bit more at ease knowing that his squints were supporting him. They were _his_ squints, and he was _their _FBI guy.

_He finished his meal and chatted with Sid for a bit. He heard Zack and Hodgins leave, turning his head to watch them walk out the door. They were in a serious discussion about something, and Booth chuckled to himself. Zack was doomed where romance was concerned._

_He turned then, watching Angela and Brennan. Brennan was mostly silent, listening to Angela chatter on and on. He was mesmerized by the way the street lights cast an pale glow across her face, and the way her hair glittered under the yellow lights of the restaurant. Angela leaned over to whisper something to her, and Brenna's eyes darted over to Booth. He couldn't hear what was said, but a flush crossed her cheeks. He didn't look away, and neither did Brennan. _

_Angela watched the look that passed between the two, but didn't say anything, just smiled to herself._

"_Booth, what got you hooked up with those girls anyways?" Booth was jerked away from Brennan's gaze when Sid came back over to pick up his plate._

"_Those _girls_ are the best in their field. I've solved several difficult cases because of them." He turned back to glance at them, but they were gone. His heart sank for the briefest moment at the fact that Brennan didn't say goodbye. He looked out the window for them, but they were indeed gone. This did not go un-noticed by Sid._

"_There's some unfinished business between you and that bone lady?" It came out as a question, but it was meant as a statement, and Booth knew it._

"_Yeah." It was a whisper, as if accepting the fact himself._

"_Here," Sid reached down and grabbed a bowl of fortune cookies from behind the counter. He rummaged around in it, pulling out a specific one. "Give this one to her." He handed Booth a wrapped cookie. Booth suppressed a chuckle that of the dozens of cookies in the bowl, it was as if Sid knew what they all said. "And you open this one." He placed a second cookie down on the counter, then set the bowl back down out of sight._

_Without waiting for a comment from Booth, Sid took the plate and coffee cup and headed back into the kitchen. Booth glanced down at the fortune cookie that was meant for Brennan, and then, palming it gently, he slipped it into his shirt pocket. Tossing a twenty dollar bill on the counter he grabbed up his own fortune cookie and headed back towards the Jeffersonian._

_As he walked he unwrapped his fortune cookie and cracked it open as he walked around the large entrance that led to the gardens behind the medico-legal building. Tossing the pieces of cookie and the wrapper in a nearby garbage he pulled the fortune out flat and read it. "Change your thoughts and you change the world." He stopped in his tracks. Son of a bitch. Sid was some kind of psychic or something. With a sigh of exasperation he shoved the fortune in his pocket and continued walking._

_He saw her where he knew she'd be. She was standing right in front of the large fountain on the Jeffersonian grounds. He had seen her out there before, when she had something on her mind that didn't have to do with a case, she would come out here, and stare at the water flowing gracefully from the top of the structure to the bottom. The setting sun played off her hair, making it shine golden. She wore her blue uniform, so Booth knew that her work day was not yet over. He approached her slowly, trying to figure out what to say. Unbeknownst to him, she seemed to know that he was approaching._

"_Why did you ignore me on the phone?" It was like a punch to the gut. He thought they were okay with each other; over the events of the last few days, but apparently not. Alright, it was now or never._

"_I've been working alone for a long time, Temperance." He took a deep breath, then let it out, willing her to turn around. She continued to stare at the water; her stance was rigid, protective. "Ever since our first case together, actually." He took a step closer to her. He reached up to touch her shoulder, and she turned her head to meet his gaze. Her blue eyes matched the water in front of her, and he found himself once again getting lost there. He followed the sharp line of her jaw, to her pursed lips and back to her blue eyes. "I'm not used to working with a woman, let alone one as smart and beautiful as you." He paused, feeling like this was such a typical _guy_ thing to say. "You kind of take people by storm, you know that, right? Not many people know what to do when you're around. I know I don't." He looked down at the water, sinking his hands into his pants pockets. Brennan watched the pained look on his face as he fought for the right words. It touched her that she meant that much to him._

"_Booth?"_

"_Sid wanted me to give this to you." Quickly changing the subject, he reached into his shirt pocket, placing the plastic wrapped cookie in her palm._

_She wondered at his dismissal of her question, but instead of pushing it, she looked down to her hand. "I don't like fortune cookies. They have no nutritional value and the writings inside are completely illogical. Generally they don't make any sense or are so vague as to be perceived to be true. People search for inherent meanings in things that have no meaning whatsoever."_

_Booth grinned. "Humor me, Brennan." She sighed, pulling the plastic off the cookie and breaking it in half. She read the words a loud. _

"_How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes?" Her brow furrowed, and Booth was rendered speechless. "I don't know what that even means." She handed the paper and the remnants of the cookie back to Booth. "That doesn't make any sense to me Booth." She turned, frustrated, back to the water._

"_Temperance…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not giving you the respect you deserve." He took a deep breath. "This is really new to me. I'm not used to being one-upped by anyone, let alone someone like you." She turned to face him again._

"_I don't know what that means either. You're really very confusing, Booth." She chewed on her bottom lip, touched that he was trying, but frustrated that he was unable to communicate his thoughts, and frustrated that she couldn't understand them._

_Silence hung between them for a moment. Brennan rocked back and forth on heels. Finally Booth handed her back the fortune. "Thanks for the ID card, Temperance." He turned to leave, but out of the corner of his eyes he saw her turn._

_After a moment, she finally spoke. "You can call me Bones…if you want." She blinked slowly, watching his expression change as a small content smile played at his lips. She couldn't help but reciprocate. They met each other's eyes for a moment, and an unspoken truce was forged between them. Finally Booth broke their gaze and turned to leave._

"_Have a good night, Bones." With that he left her alone by the fountain. She looked back down at the slip of paper in her hand, realizing it wasn't her fortune. This one read, 'Change your thoughts and you change the world.' _

_She understood the words this time, and, with a small smile, she folded the paper carefully and put it in her pocket. After staring into water for several more minutes, she went back into the Jeffersonian._

_Perhaps both of their worlds were about to change._

_**Wow, that one was harder to write than I thought. Brennan's character is a really hard shell for me to crack. I'm hoping that it came out okay. THANK YOU ALL so much for the kind reviews. It makes me giddy knowing that you're enjoying what I'm writing, and makes me want to write them even faster.**_

_**I got the fortunes for the fortune cookies at .com Those were two of the first fortunes I read, and they just seemed too perfect for the characters and the episode to NOT use them.**_

_**Again, thanks all for hanging in there, and thanks for reviewing…you guys rock!**_

_**Until next time…**_


	4. The Man in the Bear

**Welcome all, to my next installment. Enjoy**

**DISCLAIMER – DON'T OWN 'EM, JUST LOVE 'EM.**

Brennan was walking slowly into her office, the picture of the partially digested human hand captivating her senses. What she didn't realize was that Booth was totally captivated by her. She wore tall boots, making their heights nearly identical, and the light lilac scent coming off her hair as she walked filled his mind with images of her that wouldn't be appropriate to share out loud. Not realizing that she'd stopped walking, he bumped into her.

Brennan felt the whole length of Booth bump into the whole length of her. His chest pressed momentarily into her shoulders, and she felt his knees buckle ever so slightly at the backs of hers. His hands came up to catch himself, grabbing her shoulders to regain his balance. Brennan knew it was as accident, but she couldn't help the warm feeling that lingered where he touched her.

Booth watched as Brennan set stacks of paper here and there, watching as her skirt swayed around her calves. Her reddish brown in her shirt brought out the red tones in her hair, and almost perfectly matched her shade of lipstick.

Brennan examined the pictures on the thumb drive, so focused that she didn't realize that Booth was examining her. Her nearness was like a magnet to him. As she leaned closer to the computer screen, he couldn't help but lean closer to her.

"Somebody was dismembered and fed to a bear?" This had gone in a different direction than local law enforcement was ready to accept, but just in the direction he was hoping for.

"That's one possibility." Booth let out a sigh. This was going to get tricky. She reached up to her computer monitor, retrieving his jump drive and handing it back to him. "Okay, um, thanks, Bones."

"Glad I could help."

"But, uh, you're not done." Brennan was already picking up papers on one of her current studies.

"I'll check out the photographs and the X-rays, see if I can confirm sex and age." Her thoughts were gone from Booth and back to whatever she'd been working on before he'd even gotten there. Time to pull her back.

"Pack your bags. We're going to Washington State."

She definitively shook her head. "I am _not_ going to Washington State."

"Just because you say it in that definitive tone doesn't mean it means anything to me." He sat down across from her, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Brennan looked up, and the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. This battle had been won before it had even started.

_Arguing with Dr. Goodman was no help, so Temperance Brennan found herself being driven to the airport at seven the next morning. Booth was extremely chipper, and Brennan was extremely frustrated._

"_Come on, Bones…it'll be fun." He pulled a cup of coffee out of the cup holder and waved it under her nose. She snatched it away from him, but did not drink it. Booth knew she was protesting being taken against her will, and he actually thought it was kind of cute._

"_I don't think traipsing around in the woods and repelling giant mosquitoes sounds like much fun." She turned to stare out the side window._

"_Bones, I need you out there with me. I'm the best at what I do, and you're the best at what you do,"_

"_I _know_ I'm the best at what I do." She huffed it out, turning to look at Booth. She wasn't prepared for the hurt look she saw there. She tried to fix it. "And, I agree that you are the best at what you do as well." Booth couldn't help but give a small grin to her._

"_I'm sorry I didn't ask you if you'd come with me first." Booth tried to offer up an apology._

"_I would have said no." She finally took a sip of her coffee. It was just to her liking, and she could feel her body warming. It did little, however, to warm her mood at being pulled around by the F.B.I. whenever they fancied it._

_They sat in the airport outside their gate. They weren't due to board for forty five minutes, and Booth was getting antsy. He hated this part, sitting and waiting, in a sort of stasis. He also hated that Brennan sat two rows away from him. He figured that even though she was mad at him, she might have at least sat next to him so they could talk. He figured very wrong._

_He had been walking in front of her down the concourse of the airport when she had stopped to use the restroom. When she came out she spotted him sitting by the window, watching planes take off and land. She turned to the left abruptly and sat down with her side to him, and two rows over by the wall. Booth glanced up after ten or so minutes to look for her, and he saw her, sitting by herself, reading over the case files. _

_His heart sank when he realized that she was avoiding him. He almost got up to join her, but he knew that it would push a larger wedge between them, and he didn't want to see that anger in those beautiful blue eyes right now. He turned back to the runway, watching a 747 come in for landing. It pulled around to a gate on the other side of the concourse and Booth lost sight of it. He pulled out that morning's news paper and browsed the headlines. Nothing interested him, so he flipped to the crossword puzzle. He had never been good at them, but it would be something to pass the time without Brennan's company. He pulled a pen out of his bag and glanced at the first clue. 1across. Indian Hemp flower. Nope, nothing. On to the next. 3across. Boldly resistant/challenging. Nope, no idea. 4. To love, support and defend one's country. Hahaha, he thought to himself. He scrawled 'patriot' in the 4 across space._

_He had no luck with most of the rest of the across answer, so he started on the down section. He only got two of those. He knew 'Clark Kent's alter ego' and 'a baker's dozen'. Frustrated, he shoved the puzzle and his pen back in his bag and turned to Brennan._

_From where he was sitting he could watch her without her knowing it. Her hair looked darker under the yellow lighting in the gate area. She was sitting so her face was in profile to him, and his eyes followed her hairline, down to her delicate ear and along her sharp jaw and down her fragile neck to the edge of her jacket. She was very beautiful, and Booth reveled in the moment, allowing himself to enjoy watching her._

_She turned a page and he realized she was reading a book. He lifted his chin, but couldn't make out the title. Just then, as if knowing that Booth was watching, she dog eared the page she was reading and pushed the paperback back into her carry-on bag._

"_Attention passengers: Flight 3950 with service to Minneapolis is now boarding. Anyone with seats 65 and higher, please get in line for boarding." The generic announcement went out over the intercom, and Booth pulled the tickets out of his bag._

_Brennan froze in her seat. Booth had both the tickets. She had given hers back to him after they went through security so she could use the restroom. She thought it over for a moment, then with a small huff she got up and took her bag over to where Booth was sitting. She'd concede this round to him._

"_May I have my ticket please, Booth?" He grinned to himself and handed her the paper boarding pass._

"_We're in 45 A and B. You want the window seat, Bones?" _

"_No, thank you Booth, you may have it." She turned away from him, standing in place waiting for their numbers to be called. Booth watched her for a moment, then picked up his own bag and pulled it over his shoulder._

"_Flight 3950 with service to Minneapolis is now in the boarding. Anyone in seats 50 and higher may now begin boarding." Booth, with a gentle hand to Brennan's lower back began to move them towards the line._

"_Bones, I'm sorry about this case. I didn't mean to just assume that you would come with me. I just…" He didn't know how to finish._

"_I suppose it was irrational to be so vehemently against coming with you. We are partners, and I did make a deal with you and Agent Cullen." She finally turned to look at Booth, and though her mouth was still set in a line, her other features had softened and her eyes were smiling. "I accept your apology, Booth."_

_Booth couldn't help the grin that spread across his own face. "So you're finally admitting that we're partners, huh?" He gave her a playful nudge in the shoulder with his._

"_Booth," she spoke exasperatedly. "We work together, and since statistics show that crimes and murder rates have no chance of decreasing in the near future, I see us working together in the foreseeable future. Therefore I think 'partner's is an accurate term."_

_Booth schooled his features. "I agree Bones."_

"_Flight 3950 with service to Minneapolis is now boarding. Anyone in seats 40 and higher may now begin boarding."_

"_Alrighty, Bones, here we go." And with that they got in line and boarded the plane._

_They took off on time, which was good because they had just over an hour layover in Minneapolis before their connecting flight to Spokane. The sky was overcast, so Booth had nothing to look at but the blanket of grey/white clouds. As soon as they had taken off, Booth pulled his crossword back out and asked Brennan if she wanted to work it with him. She gladly accepted._

"_One across is hashish. It's the flowering part of an Indian variety of cannabis." She pulled the puzzle over onto her tray table and neatly filled in the letters._

"_How on earth do you know that, Bones?"_

"_I was at a dig sight outside of Maharastra three years ago. We had many natives working for us, and several of them partook in cannabis smoking. One man collected the flowers for his wife. She used them in artwork." She spoke so matter-of-factly that Booth couldn't come up with a joke about smoking pot. Instead he watched her as she began to fill in more of the words in the puzzle. Her brow furrowed in a small wrinkle between her eyebrows, and he leaned forward a bit in an attempt to see her face. She glanced over at him and he hastily looked down to the puzzle._

_She was in her own little world, quickly filling in the empty spaces in the puzzle. He leaned back in his seat and glanced out the window. The clouds were starting to break up, and he could see spots of land down below. Confident that she wouldn't need him for help with the crossword, he leaned against triple paned window and before long was dozing, the sounds of the plane lulling him into a half sleep._

"_Hello everyone, this is your captain Jeff speaking. We will be landing in Minneapolis in about twenty five minutes. Flight attendants, please prepare for landing."_

_Booth opened his eyes and looked out the window. The sky was clear and he could see green below him. It was then that he registered the weight on his right shoulder. As he turned his head slowly, his nose got buried in Brennan's hair. She had fallen asleep and her head was tipped against his shoulder. His arm was warm from her body heat, and the back of her left hand rested lightly against the side of Booth's thigh. He cursed himself for not waking up sooner so he could enjoy this more. He could smell her perfume; today she wore a spicy smell that he couldn't place, but he enjoyed it just the same. _

_He watched as her shoulders and chest rose and fell as she breathed evenly in and out. Her presence this close was mesmerizing, invigorating and calming all at the same time. Finally, when he saw the flight attendants coming down the aisle, he had to break the spell._

_As softly as he could, he touched Brennan's shoulder. "Hey, Bones. Wakey wakey." Her eyelids fluttered before they opened, and she slowly sat upright. She glanced over at Booth with a shy smile. He couldn't help but notice the cool air rush in between their bodies when she moved away. "I see you finished my crossword." He had glanced down to notice that the entire puzzle was filled in with her neat hand writing._

"_Yes. Some of the clues were quite a challenge."_

_He scoffed. "Oh yeah, like what?"_

_She folded up her tray table, but turned towards him with the piece of newspaper. "Well, for instance, this one here." She pointed to 34 down. "Live long and_". I was only able to figure it out by process of elimination by solving all of the clues around it." Booth chuckled. "Did you know that one Booth?"_

"_Yeah, it's from Star Trek." _

"_Oh, the television show, right?" Her brow furrowed again._

"_Yeah, the television show." He bit his lip hard to stop himself from laughing full out. Brennan folded up the puzzle and slid it into her own bag, and then pushed it under the seat in front of her. Booth watched her for a moment then glanced out the window. The ground was approaching faster and faster and within five minutes they were taxiing towards their gate._

_Their layover flew by. To Booth's satisfaction, they spent the entire time talking. They grabbed lunch from a food kiosk and headed right to their next gate. Brennan asked about Star Trek and how Booth knew so much about it. Booth chatted about his happier times in the military, and before they knew it, they were boarding their next flight._

They drove through the forest towards the small town of Aurora. The trees were tall and slender, and Booth wondered what kind they were. No doubt Brennan knew, but he didn't want to ask her. He was frustrated that she had no limit on her spending on away cases. He also couldn't get the idea of her being a 'smart ass' out of his head. He replayed her words in his head. "_Objectively, I'd say I'm very smart, although it has nothing to do with my ass."_

She was so logical and so rational sometimes it drove him crazy. He wondered if she realized how cynical she was being. Probably not. She was in a whole other league when it came to conversations, and although their banter was nothing like anyone else's, he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Their respective meetings with the sheriff and local doctor and park ranger hadn't been a huge help. Brennan had packaged up the arm and sent it back to the Jeffersonian. Booth was chatting with the sheriff about more details of the case as they walked down the sidewalk and back to the Sheriff's Department.

They both turned when there was a knock at the door. Booth watched the sheriff do a double take. "Can I help you?" An eager grin spread dumbly across his face. Booth felt the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Yeah. Thanks. I'm with him." Brennan pointed a finger at Booth, and he felt his chest swell with pride for the shortest of seconds. It was infinitesimally increased when the sheriff spoke again.

"Suddenly I wish I was F.B.I." Booth made sure the laugh he gave the sheriff had plenty of meaning behind it.

"Sheriff Chris Scutter, Dr. Temperace Brennan." Booth's eyes lingered on Brennan's face as she shook hands with the sheriff, hoping that the feelings were _not_ mutual between them. He was happy to see a look of curiosity on her face, but he knew it was for the case, and nothing more.

She immediately got down to business, speaking with the sheriff about Ranger Rivers. Booth couldn't focus because he couldn't look away from the sheriff's expression, and the sickening leer that started to come over his features. "Do you have dinner plans?" _'Oh, hell no.' Booth thought to himself._

He put a possessive hand on the small of Brennan's back as she stood up, directing her away from the sheriff and towards the door. "We're working. Thanks for that." He tossed the case file, rather violently, back to the sheriff as they departed.

He knew his jealousy was partly, or mostly due to Brennan and his mixed feelings towards her, but he also didn't like watching any desperate man try to hit on an unsuspecting woman…especially Brennan. He felt almost honor bound to protect Brennan. He knew it was a sexist thing, and if Brennan knew the true reasons behind it she would be furious, but he couldn't help it. Even at the most basest of levels, he felt protective of her.

"So, how do you like the Evergreen Lodge?" Ranger River's voice cut through Booth's thoughts on the case.

"It's very nice. I have a beautiful view of the mountains from my terrace." Booth couldn't believe his ears.

"You have a terrace?" The one window that he _did_ have overlooked the parking lot.

"Yeah."

"I'm sharing a bathroom." Booth gritted his teeth, yet again feeling the sting of his fifty dollar per day spending limit proffered to him by the F.B.I.

Booth took Brennan back to the overnight shipping place, deciding to wait outside while she mailed off the bear scat. He leaned against the outside wall, making sure that he could hear everything that this Charlie guy said.

"Hey. I just finished chapter seven."

"This has to go to my – " But Brennan was cut off.

"Do you do all the stuff the girl in your book does?" Booth was about to step inside, but he wasn't sure if the uncomfortable look on Charlie's face at his nearness would compensate for the anger that was bound to flare up in his partner's eyes.

"I'm…slightly uncomfortable discussing that with you." _Good girl, Bones, _Booth thought to himself.

"No, I'm not talking about the sex. I'm talking about the running and the shooting. I mean, if you do do all that other stuff…that's great too for you and, um whoever you're doing it with." Booth almost laughed out loud at Charlie's stumbling. He could hear Brennan chuckle as well, and he knew she would be okay.

"I'd like to send this to my lab." She tore a piece of paper.

"More bones?"

"No, it's bear scat."

"Oh. I can deal with that."

Just then Brennan's phone rang, and Booth knew it was safe to move away from the door. He headed back to the Jeep to wait for his partner.

_Later that night, Booth closed the door on his room and the man singing in their shared bathroom and began walking towards Brennan's room. The carpet on the floor was threadbare, but the color of green was still showing through the tattered fibers. He could imagine that this had been a nice hotel back in the day. Punching the button for the elevator, he waited in the hall for the car to come down. _

_The air smelled musty and he wrinkled his nose to try to stave off a sneeze. He was the only one in the hall, but he felt like he was being watched. He shuffled the clothes in his hands and pressed the call button again. Finally the car came to a stop in front of him and the door opened. He punched the fourth floor button and the doors closed and he was on his way._

_When the door opened he lost his breath. The top floor of the hotel was absolutely beautiful. The carpets were a plush green with dark mahogany wood walls. There were brass railings along both sides of the hall, and the light fixtures were made to look like large candle holders. He also noticed that there were far fewer doors on this floor than on his. He made his way down the hall to room 413 where his partner was staying. Once he found it he quickly knocked._

_At first there was no answer, so he knocked again, louder this time. "Hey, Bones, it's me." He heard a door open and close from within then the door opened and his breath was _really_ taken away._

"_Booth, what are you doing here?" She was standing behind the door that was just barely open, and Booth could see that she was wearing nothing but a white fluffy towel. His groin tightened and he did his best to bring his eyes back up to Brennan's face._

"_Uh, I was wondering if maybe I could use your shower. My bathroom is currently occupied, and it doesn't sound like it's going to be empty any time soon." Her brow furrowed, but she didn't turn him away._

"_Didn't sound like it? What do you mean, Booth?" She glanced down and saw the deodorant, t-shirt and jeans in his arms._

"_Uh, my roomie was in there singing. He's _been_ in there singing for about forty five minutes."_

_Brennan chewed on her bottom lip for a moment; she couldn't help being affected by his nearness. Finally she relented. "Alright. I find it illogical to deprive you of facilities when I have some that you can use." She opened the door the rest of the way and Booth glanced down at her bare feet. Her toenails were painted a dark crimson. He suppressed a moan and entered her room._

"_Holy crap, Bones. This room is amazing." He tossed his clothes down on the bed, taking in the enormous suite around him. The carpet in here was a dark brown and plush. The bed was a four poster king size with fluffy down comforters, plural, in white and cream. The bed was turned down and he saw that the sheets were silky and the same shade as the carpet. The light fixtures were the same brass as in the hall. There was a bookshelf against the far wall and it was loaded with old books, photo albums and small sculptures. Dark wood French doors led to the terrace he had heard about earlier that day. He opened the doors and walked out on the balcony._

_It wasn't overly large, but it had a small wooden table with a glass top and two chairs. The sun was setting behind the mountains, and the sky was stunning in swirls of blue, black and crimson. He took a deep breath of the fresh pine air, feeling it fill his lungs, letting it out with a smile he stepped back into the room and closed the doors._

_When he turned, he saw Brennan again, standing slightly awkwardly in front of the bathroom door, still holding the towel around her. It was then that he registered the sound of water running. "I'm sorry, Bones, you were already in there." He made to sit down on the bed, but then thought better of it and instead stood where he was._

"_Well, yes. If you don't mind waiting, you can use the shower after I'm done." She slid a few inches closer to the bathroom and away from Booth. He had no idea that he was having the same effect on her that she was on him._

"_Yeah, Bones, that's fine. Thanks. You take your time." She nodded then went back into the bathroom and closed the door. Booth let out a huge gush of air and sat down in an armchair by the book shelf in her room. He could handle this._

_Brennan let the towel fall to the floor and she quickly stepped into the hot spray. She leaned her forehead against the cool tile of the shower, trying to rid her brain of the image of him standing outside on the balcony. She would never admit it to anyone, but she loved watching his shoulder blades move. His shoulders were so strong and manly, when he carried himself just right, it was all she could do to keep from touching him, running her fingers along his scapulae, up his sternochleidomastoid and down along his clavicles. Part of it was pure animal attraction, and she knew that, but part of it was his uniqueness. She'd never seen a man built quite like him. She took a deep breath and let it out, a bit more shakily than she would have liked. She quickly shampooed her hair and cleaned the day off of her skin, then turned the water off._

_While Booth was waiting for his turn in the bathroom, he tried to busy himself with something to do that didn't include listening to the water in the bathroom, and picturing it flowing over his partner's naked body. Finally with a huff he stood up and rummaged around in the drawers next to the bed until he found a list of take out menus and local restaurants. They were in luck. There was a Chinese place several miles away that delivered. He picked up the room phone and called in an order. It was only seven thirty, and he knew that neither of them had eaten since breakfast, so hopefully she wouldn't mind sharing dinner with him in her room._

_After he placed the order he kicked his shoes off and sat down on the bed. It was extremely comfortable with a fluffy pillow top mattress. He clicked on the (much larger than in his room) television and began perusing the channels. Finally settling on reruns of MASH, he leaned back against the headboard and tried to calm his nerves. Just then the water turned off._

_Brennan stepped out of the shower and picked her towel up off the floor, cursing herself. She hadn't brought any clothes in here with her, since she hadn't been expecting Booth's company. She let out a frustrated sigh, wrapping the towel around her hair to catch as much moisture as possible. Finally with another sigh she wrapped the towel around herself and cracked the door open just a hair. "Booth?"_

_He started slightly, then turned to the open door. "Yeah?" He could see just the faintest sliver of her face and the bare skin of her shoulder. Oh god._

"_Could you please hand me the clothes off the top of the dresser?" Her voice sounded timid, and laced with something that Booth had never heard from her, but it caused his heart to flutter. He glanced over to the small dresser of drawers next to the TV and saw her pajamas. His heart pounded in his chest._

"_Sure, Bones." He got up and made his way over to the dresser. His breath caught in his chest at what sat in front of him. In a neatly folded pile was a pair of grey yoga pants, a faded blue t-shirt and a pair of silky pink panties. His cheeks flushed as he quickly picked up the clothes and turned to bring them to Brennan._

_Her cheeks were pink as well, and she took the garments with far less grace than she wanted to. For a moment their eyes locked, and Booth watched the emotions swirling there. Then a stray droplet of water dripped down from her hair, along her temple and down to her jaw. He watched, mesmerized as it dripped down off her face and onto her chest where it was absorbed into the towel there. It all happened in a faction of a second, but Booth knew he'd remember that sight for the rest of his life._

"_Thanks, Booth. I'll be out in just a moment." She grinned shyly and closed the bathroom door. Booth felt his fists slowly unclench._

_About five minutes later Brennan came out of the bathroom, squeezing the ends of her wet hair with the towel. "It's all yours, Booth."_

_Booth nodded, got up from the bed once again and grabbed up his own clothes. Just before he entered the bathroom he turned. "Hey, Bones, I ordered some Chinese takeout. There is money in my wallet there if it gets here before I'm out." Brennan nodded and walked over to her suitcase. He watched her for a moment, then went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him._

_Ten minutes later he was out of the shower and was sitting on Brennan's bed eating sweet and sour chicken and crab meat rangoons. He opted for a plastic fork, but Brennan ate her vegetables and rice with chop sticks. He was pleased to see that she'd left MASH on, and they watched television and ate and talked. After the awkwardness of earlier, he had become quite comfortable with her nearness._

_He would admit that the occasional dirty thought flashed through his head, but he was able to control himself with much more ease now._

"_What's your favorite television show, Bones?" He broke another Rangoon open and tossed half of it into his mouth._

"_I greatly enjoy historical documentaries, especially those with relevance to early hominid discoveries in Africa and Asia, as well as –" Booth cut her off._

"_No, Bones. I know you enjoy all of those, but aren't there any, like, sitcoms or anything you watch?"_

"_I don't watch television, Booth. My career keeps me far too busy."_

"_Bones, come on. At some point in your life you must have watched television." She pursed her lips slightly, a piece of broccoli perched between two chop sticks halfway to her mouth._

"_I enjoyed Sesame Street as a child, as well as Reading Rainbow and Fraggle Rock." Her lips turned up into a smile as her memories took her back. "But that was a long time ago."_

"_Sesame Street's a classic." Booth smiled, biting into the other half of the crab meat Rangoon. Brennan nodded._

"_I'm also enjoying this show. The lead character reminds me a little of you." Her eyes turned from Booth back to the television._

"_You think Hawkeye Pierce is like me?" How could a womanizing, boozing doctor remind Brennan of me?_

"_Well, you're both very relaxed in different social settings. He's clearly the dominant character in his field, as are you. He goes against many social norms, as do you. But he's also very task oriented and attentive to detail. You share all of those qualities." She finally placed the broccoli in her mouth and chewed it. Booth grinned._

"_Thanks, Bones. You know, you remind me a lot of Hot Lips." Her brow furrowed as she turned back to him._

"_I don't know what that means. I mean I can see the qualities in her that are reflective of myself, but I don't understand that nickname. Are her lips a higher temperature than the rest of her? Is she ill frequently during the show?"_

_Booth couldn't suppress the chuckle that roiled up in his throat. Brennan knew she was being made fun of, but she didn't mind. "She hits on the big brass. She's had a fling with like, every general on the show. Hence the nick name."_

"_Ah, I see." Revelation played all over Brennan's face, and Booth was mesmerized. "So it's not literally the temperature of her mouth, but because she has the 'hots' for many of the men on the show." She chuckled, eating some rice. "Ha, I get it." Booth grinned to himself. Bones was one of a kind._

_They continued eating and watching television until nearly eleven. Finally when Booth could no longer stifle his yawn, he bid Brennan good night and headed back down to his own room. Thankfully Pavarati had gone to bed as well._

"Zack will have the odontologist at the Jeffersonian take a look, but I'm right." Brennan sat in the sheriff's truck while he ate breakfast, speaking to both him and Booth, who was leaning in the driver side window.

"A cannibal? You mean a Hannibal Lecter – type deal." The sheriff spoke and Booth's stomach flipped at the thought of a human eating another human's flesh. He could handle a lot, but this was just disturbing.

"I don't know what that means."

"But you're certain," Booth spoke, "a human being gnawed on that bone?" They began speaking as if the Sheriff weren't there, though he was sitting between them.

"Bit, gnawed, removed the flesh."

"That's – that's really not good." Booth could see the nauseated look take over the Sheriff's face and he gleaned a small bit of satisfaction from that, though he wasn't sure exactly why.

The events from the rest of the day had Booth on edge; from finding out that they had a cannibal on their hands, to not having any distinctive leads on the remains of Adam Langer, to losing Ranger Rivers in the forest…he did not need Brennan letting Angela know that it was his fault that the case was at a standstill.

"Whoa. Wait a second. I didn't lose him."

"You didn't catch him." Brennan was speaking to Booth now, but Angela was still on the other end of the cell phone call, getting quite a kick out of the whole situation. It was she that spoke next.

"So you two have the night free."

"Yes. We can't do anything until I get a determination on that meat and Booth has to wait till it's light to look for the guy he lost." She turned to look at Booth as she spoke, and saw an emotion in his brown eyes that she couldn't understand.

"I didn't lose him, okay? I – he – Tell her that my flashlight died."

"She doesn't care."

"What?" Angela couldn't make out everything Booth was saying.

"Give me the phone." Booth reached out for Brennan's cell phone. Brennan pushed his hand back towards the steering wheel.

"It's not safe to drive and talk on a cell phone."

Unbeknownst to either of them, Angela's face broke out into a smile. "Are you two fighting?"

"Professional pride. Tell her. Please tell her that." Booth wasn't thinking about Brennan anymore, or Angela. He was thinking about Ranger Rivers escaping him, and didn't want all of the blame being dropped on his shoulders.

"Booth wants you to know that he lost the guy because his flashlight died." Brennan turned back to the road.

"And because he's an Indian and he's a park ranger. And he's very, very familiar with the territory. Tell her that." His voice elevated and Brennan was sure that she didn't need to repeat anything that Booth just said.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah. Something about Indian territory."

"She says she understands. I need to know about that meat as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I'll call back."

"Give me the phone. Hold on." This time Booth used his strength to finagle Brennan's phone from her right hand. "Plus, you know what? It wasn't even my flashlight, okay?" Brennan couldn't believe how childish he was being, but she didn't make an attempt to take her phone back…yet. "It was the sheriff's flashlight, and his batteries – they ran out. Okay?"

Brennan was now satisfied that Booth had made his point, and snatched back her cell phone. "Good night, Angela." She glanced out the window of the Jeep. It was hard to see anything since the sun had gone down, but it spared her from the odd look on Booth's face.

"Hey. You have to take that man for a drink. And have a little fun yourself." Brennan turned back to Booth.

"Fun and a drink – where do we find that?"

Booth was disgusted watching Brennan dance with Charlie. He sat down at the bar, eager to down a beer or two. Though the sheriff was speaking to him very quickly, he couldn't help but keep sending glances in her direction to make sure she was okay. He was even more disgusted as he watched Brennan twirl out of Charlie's arms and into Dr. Rigby's.

He was holding her way too close and looking at her way too much. He gave Charlie a knowing look as he took his own seat at the bar, crestfallen and partner-less.

Booth turned to speak to the sheriff and watched in even more disgust as that leering look came over the sheriff's face again as he himself worked his way over to cut in and dance with Brennan. He could see that they were talking, and a confused look came over Brennan's face, which meant that more than likely the sheriff was throwing innuendo at her that she didn't understand. This had to stop. As soon as the sheriff began to spin her, Booth slid out of his seat and pulled her firmly into his own arms. He spoke loud enough so the sheriff and all of the men around could hear him.

"Mind if I cut in?" Then he began to gently sway her back and forth. "I thought you might need a break."

"Everybody's pumping me." He felt the warmth of her hand in his, and the protective pull of her other arm on his shoulder. It felt wonderful.

"Sorry?"

"For information on the case." Her eyes were level with his chin, and she couldn't help watching his Adam's apple move as he spoke.

"Bones, they're only pretending to be interested in the case." He cradled her hand in his, moving ever so slightly closer to her. He couldn't help but watch the warm orange lights play off her hair and her fierce blue eyes.

"Why?" Her brow furrowed in the way that he loved.

"They're hitting on you."

"Are you sure?" She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes, I'm sure." They both looked over at the three men, now sitting next to each other. They were all watching her, and Booth could read the looks on their face as if they were speaking their thoughts out loud. Obviously Brennan could not. "You're the hottest thing this town has seen in a long time." He spun her out of her arms, but away from the men leering at her, then pulled her back to safety. "Check out the competition." He dipped Brennan so she was looking behind her, upside down, then whipped her back up so they were cheek to cheek. He could feel the flush in her cheeks radiating into his own as they both looked at Dr. Randall. "Now that is someone who wants to eat your heart."

The next day was full of discovery; finding out that Ranger Rivers wasn't the cannibal, that maybe Dr. Randall was. Brennan, through Zack and Angela, figured out that marks on the bone were from a sternum spreader. All signs then pointed to Dr. Rigby. As they drove to the hospital, Booth couldn't shake the twisting feeling in his stomach at the thought of the doctor holding Brennan so close.

They walked through the dark hallway of the hospital, two silhouettes in the passage.

"Moments like this are why I need a gun." Brennan stopped walking and faced Booth, her voice barely above a whisper. With a sign Booth pulled a small pistol out of an ankle holster and handed it to her. "Where else do you keep them?" He didn't answer, just started walking again. "Thank you."

"That is for self-defense. So you don't just go blasting away in there." His voice had taken on that urgent tone that it did whenever they were close to the suspect, and a small thrill of excitement shot through Brennan's insides.

"What if I have to shoot? What part of his body should I hit?"

Booth saw a light on up ahead and stopped just short of the door, peering briefly inside, then turned back to Brennan before making his way inside. "The part that isn't me. Just stay back."

They entered, and Brennan pushed her way past him to the empty examining tables. So much for the element of surprise.

"The bodies are gone." Brennan's eyes, the same color as the lights in the autopsy room, flashed about as she looked for any signs that Dr. Rigby was there.

"What's he gonna do, take 'em into the woods for a late-night snack?" Booth glanced under the tables and behind the door, trying to keep his body between Brennan and anything that might hurt her.

"If I were him, I'd destroy the evidence." And with that they quickly made their way to the basement and the incinerator room.

He was there, pushing Adam's body into the massive flames. "Step away from the incinerator, Dr. Rigby." Brennan moved to the controls to stop the fans keeping the fire kindled.

As the doctor began his explanation and his quest for sharing the life force of another human being, Brennan picked up a bedpan behind him, bringing it down swiftly against the back of his head. With a groan his body lurched forward, then crumpled to the floor. Booth looked at his partner. "What'd you do that for?"

"Nobody wants to hear that rambling psycho speech." Though Booth was frustrated that he couldn't continue his questioning, he couldn't help but be amused.

"A bedpan?" She shrugged and he tipped his head to the side, with one last glance at the doctor, he made for the upper floors to call for back up.

The sun had barely risen when Booth and Brennan arrived at the bar for breakfast before catching their plane back home.

"And to think, I didn't want to come here with you. This was a fascinating case." Booth pulled a paper napkin off of the table and laid it across his lap. "You don't often find ritual cannibalism practiced so close to home." She scooped up some corn flakes and spooned them into her mouth.

"Which I find a plus." Booth was still disgusted and confused at the idea of cannibalism. That was one social practice he could not wrap his head around.

"There are always those individuals within a species who are driven to break the most basic taboos." She waved her spoon around for emphasis. "I mean, Rigby actually ate human flesh." Booth stopped in the middle of cutting his breakfast steak.

"Bones, I just got my steak and eggs." She seemed unconcerned, picking up her orange juice, but continuing on before she could take a sip.

"Rigby has a prion disease, which means he's been a cannibal for quite some time. Do you realize, when we go to trial, he could use the insanity defense?"

"The guy _is_ nuts." She finally took a drink.

"Yes, but is he nuts because he got a brain disease from eating human flesh, or was he already nuts the first time he ate flesh?" Booth was glad they were the only two having breakfast this early, because her voice was carrying. "Or did he just lick his fingers after surgery?"

Booth dropped his fork and pushed his plate away. "I should just become a vegetarian." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Or, as an alternative, just don't eat people."

"Whatever."

**This was so much fun to write, because I had a lot more liberty to play around behind the scenes. My mind went into the gutter several times, but I forced it back out…it's just too soon. ;-) But I hope to have SOMETHING happen before the end of this season!**

**In case anyone is wondering, I decided to leave out the whole Brennan/Charlie thing because A. it didn't really help be develop my story, and B. it made me mad :) Writer's prerogative I guess. LOL**

**I feel like I get a lot of Booth's inner monologue, so I tried to include some of Brennan's in here as well. It's just easier to write from Booth's perspective because he has more down to earth feelings (and because I know he's in love with her) but I'll try harder to get her perspective in there too from now on.**

**Thanks for playing along again, and please review or comment. Your reviews are keeping me totally stoked to keep writing these! Thanks 3**


	5. A Boy in a Bush

**Alright friends, it's been a while since I've been writing. I've been catching up on season six and all I can say is Holy Crap! I'll have my work cut out for me sooner or later. =) In the mean time, on with season one!**

Brennan had been asked to speak to a class of Forensic Anthropology students, and she'd jumped at the chance. What she didn't realize was that Booth was in the second row, hanging on her every word. The longer they had been working together, the more he enjoyed spending time with her…whether she knew it or not.

He watched as she spoke about forensics, and science, and the mutual benefit of the F.B.I. working with the Jeffersonian. Several of her colleagues, including Dr. Goodman sat at a table on stage, listening to Brennan speak. Booth watched her face; and the gleam in her eye as she discussed her true passion. She was talking about something she truly loved, and it showed. Booth loved that look on her face.

Several students asked about her book, and Booth got an idea. Just before Dr. Goodman ended the seminar, Booth stood up.

"I have a question regarding the role of the F.B.I. in your book. Who do you base brilliant and insightful Special Agent Andy Lister on?" Several students around him turned towards him, but Booth focused solely on Brennan. He watched as she rolled her eyes. "Because, you know, I'm pretty sure it was me." He slid his hands in his pants pockets, a cocky grin on his face.

"What are you doing here, Booth?" The rest of the lecture hall faded away as the two spoke to each other.

They walked out to her car after the lecture was over. It was evening, and the lights along the cobblestone sidewalk played off Brennan's hair, highlighting the golden strands there. The moon above shone down brightly, illuminating the rest of her in a silver glow. Booth tried to focus on the new case rather than how she looked in the glowing night.

"Local police got an anonymous call saying there were human remains in a field behind a mall out in the suburbs.

"I did an anthropological profile of the suburbs as a grad student. The whole notion of a created community…a modern utopia with its own mores and rules is fascinating." Brennan pulled her car key out of her pocket and with a chirp the locks clicked off. Booth was about to walk right past it, not realizing that it was hers.

"Fascinating to who?"

"To 'whom.'" Brennan stopped by the driver's side door. With another click of a button the automatic truck slowly began to open.

"Ha, you gotta be kidding." Booth chuckled as the trunk opened.

"What? My publishers gave it to me." Brennan was confused, and eyed Booth's face for an explanation to his confusion.

"Gave it to you?" He examined his own reflection in the hood of the extremely shiny silver car.

"Book sales are pretty good. It's supposed to be a nice car." Booth could barely stifle a groan. She had no idea.

"Gave it to you?" He motioned at it, making sure they were talking about the same thing.

"Yeah." She was still confused.

"Well, why did you park crooked?" Students started coming out of the lecture hall, and walked around the two of them and the car, seemingly paying them no attention.

"Well, the guy said to always park it like that." She turned her head to the left to look at her partner.

"He's wrong. It makes you look like an idiot." He was trying his best to suppress a grin, and a slight inferiority complex.

"How about I drive for once?"

Oh, hell no. "No. I cannot show up to a crime scene in that." He cocked his head and gave her that 'there is no argument to be had here' look. She asked anyways.

"Why?" There was a slight annoyance in her tone, but mostly just honest curiosity.

"It would detract from the gravity of my F.B.I. presence." His eyes bore into hers for a moment. "Especially if you parked crooked."

Brennan let it drop and turned her thoughts back to the murder case. "Why is the F.B.I. involved in the search for human remains behind a suburban mall?"

Booth pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Brennan. She realized it was a photo. When Booth spoke again, the tone in his voice was completely different, and she had never heard it from him before. "Because this boy is missing."

"Oh." She looked at the picture, at the smiling little boy looking back up at her. "A child."

"Yeah."

Their investigation behind the mall was fruitful, much to Booth's chagrin. They did indeed find the remains of a young boy, and as comical as it was to see Zack in the thermal imaging suit, it didn't lighten the mood that a child had, most likely, been assaulted and murdered.

_The entire drive back to the Jeffersonian, Booth didn't say a word, and though Brennan was desperate to ask him what was wrong, she could tell from the look in his eye to the set of his jaw that he didn't want to speak._

_Brennan didn't understand why Booth would be so affected by a child? She could understand it to a point, since she herself was affected. It was always harder when a child was involved, in any circumstance, but she didn't understand why Booth couldn't compartmentalize it. She knew he wasn't as good at is as she was, but he definitely could. She'd seen him do it on cases, and knew that he had to do it as a sniper. Something about this case and this boy was affecting him in a way that she couldn't understand._

_They did their separate investigations; Booth with Charlie's family and Brennan at the lab, working to identify cause of death. Neither one had a very good day, but both learned a lot. Angela's images of the boy in the mall did little to lighten the mood of everyone. Angela was saddened by the loss of this small life, and Brennan was sad for her friend, and the fact that it was still affecting Booth so much._

_It broke Brennan's heart when children were hurt or murdered, but it went beyond that for Booth. Angela, she could understand. Angela had such a soft heart. The job in general affected her much more than it did everyone else, and though Angela said that Brennan was wrong about that, Brennan knew she wasn't. Angela had become her best friend, and she knew this job was getting harder and harder for her._

Booth and Brennan walked quickly through the Jeffersonian to where Zack had the remains. "I'm afraid Angela might quit." Brennan turned to speak to Booth.

Booth could hear the apprehension in her voice, and knew that her fears weren't unfounded.

"I'm amazed she stuck it out this long." Brennan seemed to pull the clipboard she held in her right hand closer to her chest. It was obviously not the reassurance she was looking for.

"Why?" They locked eyes for a moment, but Booth held no emotion there.

"Oh, because she's human." The words stung a bit, but Brennan didn't take them with the seriousness that she used to. Still, her brow furrowed and she wrinkled her nose. "I'm sorry, Bones. It's just that, you know, uh, Angela didn't get the same training that the rest of you got on, uh, planet Vulcan." She made a face, looking at him again. He gave her a smile.

"I don't know what that means." She spoke as they entered the lab that Zack was in.

"She's more sensitive." Booth followed behind Brennan.

"Who's more sensitive?" Zack spoke, not looking up from the file folder he held.

"Angela." Brennan spoke for Booth, coming to stand next to Zack, next to the remains.

"She likes puppies and kitties and ducklings, and, you know, Jell-O shots, and, you know, dancing on bars." He made a dance beat noise and motioned a dance for effect, but Zack and Brennan just looked at him with confused faces.

"I know that. She's my best friend." The hurt was still in her voice, and it made Booth sad. He knew what an integral part of the team Angela was. "Angela's not the only person in the world who likes baby animals." She turned her attention back to her clip board.

"I never got the big attraction." Zack commented, again, not looking up from his file.

"I rest my case. She's more sensitive." Booth countered. It was going to be a long day.

Zack began explaining what they'd found out so far, and when he turned to Brennan for confirmation, They he glanced over at Booth.

Booth was gazing down at the small skull at the other end of the table. That look flashed into his eyes again that Brennan didn't understand. Zack was the one to break the silence.

"The thing to do is concentrate on the details." Even he could see that this was affecting Booth differently.

Brennan's eyes slid from her own paperwork over to her partner, curious to see what his reaction would be.

Booth attempted to flash back to business mode, but his eyes betrayed him. "Let's do that." His voice was tighter than normal, and barely above a whisper, and he cleared his throat in another failed attempt to cover his emotions.

Brennan took over the conversation, bringing them back to task. She didn't realize that Booth was thanking her inside.

They fought about Charlie's mother. Brennan was furious that Booth would arrest her. Now it was Booth's turn to be confused. He had no idea why Brennan was so bent out of shape at the thought of the other two boys being put back into the foster system. He wanted to push her, but her blue eyes grew fierce and she stormed out of his office. He was left alone and wondering.

"Angela has a face for the abductor." Booth's voice cut into her thoughts as she worked on her next book. It was not the voice she wanted to hear. She was still mad at him. She got out of her chair and with a quick glance at Booth she darted out of the office. He glanced at her notes for a moment then followed her towards Angela's office.

While Booth interrogated Shawn, Charlie's foster brother, he couldn't know that Brennan's chest was twisted in pain as she watched the boy draw pictures in the water the dripped off the water bottle on the table. She felt everything that child was feeling, and Booth didn't know. He didn't know that Brennan fought with the social worker, and stormed out of the room.

Brennan was in the examination room studying an x-ray when Booth entered. "Bones, I thought you'd like to know that Shawn and David are in emergency care." He stayed by the door, not sure how his partner would react to this news. He eyed her cautiously. Brennan glanced up; biting her lip, then looked back down at her work. "Pulled some strings, you know, to make sure they – they get to stay together." Booth was trying, but still didn't understand her anger. She wouldn't look at him.

"That's good. Thanks."

He shrugged his shoulders angrily. "It's the best I could do."

She still didn't look at him. "Yeah, I understand." She set her papers and pencil down, still examining the bones.

"No, you say you understand, but you don't. Not really." She pulled her latex gloves off, but Booth pressed on. "I mean, if you don't like the rule, you ignore it, right?" She played with the gloves absently, taking in his words. "I can't have that. And if you want to do this –" Finally she turned to him, and her eyes had such a faraway look in them that Booth's heart skipped a beat.

"Do what?" Her voice was soft, childlike.

"Work on cases, you know, with me, outside the lab." She crossed her arms, defiant. "If you want to do that, I need to know that you will respect the law."

She looked down, and when she finally spoke, her voice held that same quality. It almost sounded as if she was holding back tears, and it made Booth sick inside. "Tell you what. If I can't respect the law, I can at least respect you."

Booth was stunned. He hadn't expected that, and it touched his heart. "Well," he chuckled nervously, "Yeah, that'll work. I mean, it kinda comes out of nowhere, but – "

She interrupted him with a new idea of how Charlie might have been killed, and with that, their personal conversation was put on hold.

Against his better judgment, Booth let Brennan interrogate Shawn. He had no idea what he was about to find out about his partner.

"Do you remember me, Shawn?" Her voice was soft, full of compassion. Booth watched through the two way mirror as his partner tried to connect with the young boy.

"The museum lady. The one who's so smart."

"Yeah, I'm pretty smart." She leaned forward so her face was level with his. "Smart enough to know that you didn't kill Charlie. You don't have to say anything, Shawn. Just listen." The little boy looked down at his folded hands, tears welling up in his eyes. Brennan's heart silently broke yet again for this boy.

She took a deep and shaky breath and went on, knowing that she was talking to more than just Shawn. "They give you a garbage bag to carry all your stuff…like they're telling you everything you own is garbage." Her own brow furrowed, and Booth's heart sunk. How could she possibly know this? "And then you have to go to a new school in clothes that smell like garbage bags."

"All the regular kids know you're a foster kid." Shawn's voice was cracking, and he sniffled. "How do you know what it's like?" Shawn asked the question that Booth's heart was screaming for an answer for.

"They bounce you from place to place, and it's never home." A single tear slid down Shawn's cheek, and Booth watched as tears filled Brennan's eyes as well, though the hurt was not fresh enough for her to let them fall. He couldn't believe he'd been so insensitive. H'de had no idea.

"Sometimes the foster parents are nice."

"Like Margaret?" Shawn sniffled again.

"Yeah." She paused, sniffling herself. "And sometimes they separate you from your brother." Oh God, Booth thought to himself. He wanted someone to punch him in the face, though the hurt look on Brennan's face and the hurting in her heart was doing a good job at breaking his.

"It must have been nice with Margaret, staying with David." At the mention of his brother's name, Shawn began openly crying. He still looked at his hands in front of him on the table, but the tears made it impossible to see anything. He sniffled again.

"We got bunk beds." Brennan smiled; that far off look in her eyes again. "At night, I knew David was there…like he was guarding me." He drew a shaky breath. "Margaret's nice." Booth watched through the glass as Brennan's mouth tightened momentarily, and he knew she was trying desperately not to cry. He wished he could freeze time and go into that room and give her a hug, and draw all of the pain out of her heart. But instead he watched silently as she continued questioning the boy.

"You'd do almost anything to stay with Margaret, right?" Shawn nodded, too ashamed now to meet her eyes.

"The man you took Charlie to…the man who hurt him, he knows that. You didn't know that he'd hurt Charlie, but he did." Booth knew she was getting near the end now. "And then he told you that Margaret would blame you, that she'd hate you." She leaned even closer to his face, willing her words to ring true with the small boy. "But this man is lying to you, Shawn. I can make sure that you go back to Margaret." She knew that even though she had no right to make that statement, she follow it through, no matter what.

"How? You work at a museum."

"I have a friend at the F.B.I." She glanced up at the mirror that she knew Booth was standing behind. She hoped she was looking him right in the eye, though she had no idea. Booth's breath caught in his throat as those blue eyes, now filled with sadness and a sad longing met his and held them, even through the two way glass. "If I ask him to, he will make sure that you and David get to live with Margaret again." Then and only then did she look away from the mirror and back to Shawn. It was then that the child advocate in the room spoke for the first time.

"Dr. Brennan, you can't make promises like that." Booth wanted to jump through the window and tell the man to be quiet. He wanted those boys to be back with Margaret now, almost more for Brennan's sake than for Shawn or David.

"Yes, I can. He will do it. My friend will make it happen." Shawn began crying again, and Brennan was resolute.

"Oh, man." Booth finally spoke out loud, though he knew he would get those boys back to Margaret if he lost his job over it.

"But you have to tell me who hurt Charlie." Brennan forced the words at Shawn, willing him to look at her.

"What if Margaret doesn't want me anymore? Charlie was her real son."

"Charlie wasn't her biological son either. Charlie was just like you…someone that Margaret chose to love." She drew a breath, and when she spoke again it was in a whisper that she wasn't even sure if Booth could hear, but she didn't care. The words were only for Shawn. "I don't think we should let that man take you and David, _and_ Charlie away from Margaret, do you?" Shawn shook his head, his blond bangs hiding his eyes from view. They didn't, however, cover the tears that were openly streaming down his face.

"We should stop him. You and I should stop him." Shawn let out a shaky breath and there was a pregnant silence. Booth stared through the glass, willing Shawn to answer, to say anything.

Shawn finally turned and without looking Brennan in the face, he wrapped his arms around her neck, desperately. Brennan was taken aback, and only paused for a moment before her hands came up to the boy's back, holding him close. Booth watched the hurt look grow even more painful on Brennan's face. Shawn cried silently for a moment, then turned and whispered in Brennan's ear. Her eyes slid up to the glass again, and she knew she was looking at Booth, and Booth knew that they had their answer.

"I'm sorry." Booth stood in the doorway of Brennan's office.

"For what?" Though she knew exactly where this conversation was going. She was surprised he waited this long to have it.

"You have personal experience in the system." Brennan didn't want to look up, because she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to keep the tears at bay this time. This case had hit just too close to home. When she finally met his eyes, the pained look was back, and it broke Booth's heart all over again.

"I was a foster child until my grandfather got me out." Her sad looked transformed into one of anger.

"Yeah, when you said, 'They take you away from your brother' – I kind of had the feeling you weren't talking about David Cook."

"Booth, I'll tell you all about it one day," she paused, looking at her computer screen, "But tonight, I have to get dressed for a party." Booth had almost forgotten about the benefit party that Dr. Goodman had commanded all of his employees to go to…

"Oh. Okay, Bones." He turned to leave, not satisfied with the conversation, but satisfied at knowing how she felt.

"By the way, there's a huge ding on my passenger side door because you told me not to park it at an angle." She moved the mouse to shut down her computer. She glanced up at Booth, only to see that he was trying, and failing, no to laugh. Okay, that's just mean." He laughed harder. She couldn't help a grin as well, though she was still angry. "You're mean." He turned to leave, spun around to apologize one more time, but chuckled as he left her office. She couldn't help her own grin that spread. It felt good to smile.

Booth caught Brennan right before she left with the others for the party. He eyed her in her lavender and black dress. Her hair was in a simple but elegant ponytail, and she held a small black clutch. Her eye makeup brought out the blue in her eyes, making them look almost clear. She looked absolutely beautiful.

"You look nice." She looked down at her feet. "Better than nice. You look, uh…" He drew a breath, but his mind was a blank. His eyes traveled up and down her body, but kept getting stuck on her face. She finally looked up and her eyes met his. "…very…" He slid his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks."

"Bones, how did you know I was gonna keep your promise?"

"What promise?"

"To get Shawn and David back with Margaret Sanders."

She chewed her bottom lip. "Maybe I was lying…to catch the bad guy. I learned that trick from you." She grinned, and they both knew _she_ was lying now. "The end justifies the means."

"Hmmm." Booth turned to leave, knowing that wasn't her real answer.

"Booth." He turned to face her again. "I knew you'd back me up. I knew you wouldn't make me a liar."

"Hmm. How'd you know?"

She pressed her lips together, but answered truthfully. "Because you want to go to heaven." Booth grinned.

"But you don't believe in heaven."

"But you do." He smiled once more and turned to leave, and Brennan left as well, heading towards the limo feeling happier than she had all day.

_Brennan was so ready to leave, she could scream. She didn't, however, and plastered the fake grin on her face as, yet again, another patron came by to introduce themselves to her and ask her questions about her job. She politely answered every question, but her insides were squirming, desperate to get out of here and go home._

_She glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost eleven. Surely this was bound to be over soon. She had never been to something like this, and didn't know what the proper etiquette. Dr. Goodman was in a fierce conversation with a grey haired man and woman; and she wondered if she could sneak to an exit with no one the wiser. She didn't know what she'd do after that, however. They had taken the limousine together. Surely he would notice if she wasn't there when they all left. She let out a small sigh, took a sip of the glass of warm champagne she's been holding for almost an hour, and glanced at the clock again._

_Seeley Booth entered the banquet hall at ten minutes to eleven. He'd gone home after leaving Brennan at the Jeffersonian, but couldn't get her out of his mind. He didn't have a tux, but he had a very nice black suit, so he threw it on, ran a comb through his hair and headed back out the door. He wanted to see her one more time tonight. He wanted her to know that they were okay._

_He spotted her instantly, and his heart sped up. She was standing alone in the back of the room, holding a mostly full glass of champagne. He spotted Zack and Angela sitting together eating. Booth chuckled to himself at Zack's heaping plate of food, and his enthusiastic way of eating. Angela ate a salad, listening to Zack talk about something, a genuine smile on her face. With one last glance in their direction, he made his way over to Brennan._

_Brennan saw him when he came in, but pretended like she didn't. She felt her heart speed up at the sight of him. Partly because her curiosity was peaked as to why he would show up at such an event, and partly because she had been thinking about him most of the evening. She watched as he glanced over at Zack and Angela, and she wondered if perhaps there was a case._

_Then she thought better of that idea. Booth had changed into a nicer suit, and even wore black socks and a plain silver belt buckle. She wondered at this change in his persona, but she turned away from him, content to let him make the first move._

_She turned to set down her glass of champagne, and felt him approach before he spoke. "Hey, Bones." She turned around, and although she knew he would be standing right in front of her, she couldn't help the flush that crept up her chest and into her cheeks at his nearness._

"_Booth, what are you doing here?" Her fierce eyes bore into his, trying to calculate an answer before he spoke the words._

"_Well, Bones, I didn't really like the way we left things earlier. I thought maybe we could get out of here and talk." A look of utter relief crossed Brennan's face, and Booth couldn't help the smile that flashed across his own._

"_That's acceptable. I suppose I should tell Dr. Goodman that I'm leaving." Her eyes began to scan the crowd to look for her boss, but she didn't see him anymore._

"_Oh, come on Bones. I'm sure he'll figure it out." His fingers brushed against the lacey fabric on her lower back and he steered her towards the exit._

_It was a bit chilly outside, and though Brennan had her wrap around her shoulders, Booth could tell that she was still cold. Without hesitating, he pulled his suit jacket off and slid it gently over her shoulders. She smiled appreciatively, not letting Booth know that her heart sped up as his scent and warmth engulfed her._

"_Bones, why didn't you tell me that you were in the foster system?" Brennan stopped walking. She really didn't want to have this conversation right now. This case had brought up memories that she had worked to bury deep down, and the wounds were a bit too raw right now? Instead, she countered with her own question._

"_Why did the victim being a child affect you so much, Booth?" Booth turned to her, and an emotion she didn't recognize took over his features for a moment, and he answered a bit too quickly._

"_Well, I mean, come on Bones, it was a kid. It's always harder when it's a kid." His look became muddled._

"_I accept that Booth. It is harder when it's a child. However, I don't believe that is your only reason. But since I am not ready to discuss my answers with you, I'm content to leave it at that." She began walking again, and Booth followed silently. He could tell she was grappling with many emotions, and without thinking, he put his arm around her shoulders, lightly, cupping her left shoulder in his left hand._

_Brennan didn't say anything, but Booth felt her lean into him just a bit, and he squeezed her tighter. They walked on in silence towards his truck, as he was prepared to give her a ride home._

"_Booth?" Her voice was slightly timid and Booth's heart caught._

"_Yeah?" They reached his truck and Booth walked her over to the passenger door. She turned and her eyes searched his._

"_What exactly is a Jell-O shot?" Booth broke into a strong fit of laughter, and Brennan cocked her head to the side. "Booth, don't make fun of me." She crossed her arms, and Booth admired how small she looked under his suit jacket._

"_That…is actually quite a coincidence. Would you come with me?"_

_Her brow furrowed, but she nodded._

_Fifteen minutes later they parked across the street from Booth's apartment. Booth got out and came around to meet Brennan on the other side. "Booth, what are doing at your apartment? Won't Tessa be upset that you're bringing me here late at night?" She pulled Booth's jacket tighter around her small frame as a gusty of chilly wind came down the street._

"_No way, Bones. Tessa trusts me…_and_ I didn't bring you here for anything untoward." Brennan smiled at that. "It's a coincidence that you asked about Jell-O shots, because I happen to have several amazing recipes for Jell-o shots. I used to throw quite the party back in the day." Brennan grinned quizzically at him as they quickly crossed the road towards his building._

"_But you still haven't told me what exactly Jell-O shots are." A wicked grin crossed his face as they entered his apartment._

_Brennan pulled the band in her hair out and gratefully shook her head back and forth, letting her locks fall around her shoulders, free from their its tight restraint. She toed off her heels and set them neatly by the front door, then sat down on the couch as Booth went into the kitchen. When he came back, he had a tray of colorful shot glasses in rows. "Dah, duh da!" He set the tray down on the coffee table in front of her. "Here you go Bones…Jell-O shots!"_

_Brennan eyed the different colors, smelling the fruity aroma that came off of them. "I see now, Jell-O in shot glasses." She picked up a green one and tipped it towards her mouth. The green mass slid gracefully between her lips and onto her awaiting tongue. Booth waited while she closed her mouth, moving the Jell-O over her tongue. She looked at him and her eyes grew wide. Booth's face broke out into a knowing grin. "Jell-O and _alcohol_ in shot glasses." She set the empty shot glass down on the tray. "That was lime and tequila, correct?" Booth nodded. "What are the rest of the flavors?"_

"_These are strawberry with Peach Schnapps. The yellow ones are lemon with Absolut. The orange ones have Malibu rum. So do some of the strawberry ones…uh…I don't remember all of them. I kno…" But the chirp of Brennan's cell phone cut him off. She motioned apologetically but reached into her clutch for her phone._

"_Brennan."_

"_Sweetie, where are you? You're not still at the party are you?" Booth could faintly hear Angela's voice on the other end of the call._

"_No, I'm with Booth at his apartment." Booth cringed at her phrasing._

"_Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt sweetie." Booth could only imagine Angela's face, or worse, her brain working on all kinds of scenarios. He cringed again, tossing back an orange Jell-O shot._

"_No, Angela. Booth and I are trying his Jell-O shots. He used to make them at parties, and they are actually quite good."_

"_Wait, you're partying at Booth's place without me?" Angela was standing outside the banquet hall, and at that moment a cab came by which she quickly hailed with a sharp whistle._

"_I wouldn't exactly call it partying, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you came over too." She glanced up at Booth. He gave an exasperated sigh, but smiled and shrugged his shoulders._

"_Well that's good because I just got a cab. I'll be there in like ten minutes." Angela, grinning to herself, got in the back seat of the cab and gave the driver directions._

_One hour later the Jell-O shots were gone. Booth sat in a happy fog in his favorite chair watching his partner and her best friend chatting and giggling across the room. They were browsing his music collection, and although it contained mostly blues and some classic rock, Angela found some dance music and put it on._

_Angela immediately began swaying to the music, and Booth could tell that she was a habitual partier and general fun-time-having girl. Brennan stood still for a moment, listening to the beat. He could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she thought about something._

_Angela danced barefoot to the slow dance beat that wafted from the speakers, her eyes closed and a slight smile crossed her face. Finally Brennan's head jerked in his direction, or rather, in the direction of the coffee table. She moved quickly to it, clearing the tray of empty shot glasses off of it, and then went back to Angela. "Dancing on tables and Jell-O shots, that was your wording, correct Booth?" Angela took an extra moment to take in Brennan's words._

_Booth had to take a moment as well, to figure out what Brenna was saying, but then he remembered their conversation about Angela in her office and he slowly nodded. Brennan quickly went back over to the stereo where Angela stood confused. Brennan flipped over the CD case of the CD that was playing and searched the tracks. She decided on a faster tempo one, and skipped to it. The music began, upbeat and with a rhythm that even Brennan couldn't resist moving to. She grabbed Angela's arm and they made their way, albeit a bit wobbly, towards the coffee table._

_Brennan climbed up on it first, then with a grin Angela stepped up as well. Holding each other's hands for balance they began dancing together. Booth leaned back in his chair watching. His foot began tapping on the floor to the music, but he was too entranced at the women in front of him to move._

"_Angela, you can't quit your job." Brennan spoke the words over the music as their hips swayed back and forth. Angela let go of Brennan's hands and let her own arms go into the air as she moved to the music. "I can't do what I do without you."_

_Angela smiled through her alcohol haze. "I know." Brennan smiled too, then glanced down to Booth._

"_She's not quitting her job!" Brennan's smile grew as she pointed at her friend and Booth couldn't help but return the smile._

"_I know…I heard her." Booth smiled, more to himself this time. Angela began to do a slow spin on the table, letting her hips lead her in a circle. When she came to face Booth, she grinned down at him as well._

"_Booth, come here." Angela held out her hand to him._

"_No way, Angela. That coffee table is old. It can't hold all three of us." He glanced over at his partner. Her movements were slow, and there was enough room on the table for one more. But did he dare? The alcohol said yes, but physics said no way in hell._

"_Oh Booth, come _here_." Angela climbed down from the table and with more force than he expected, she pulled him to his feet and up onto the table between herself and Brennan. It was a tight fit, but facing Brennan gave him a bit more room. Angela put one hand on his right shoulder, dancing behind him as the beat picked up. Her other hand came to his waist, and he tensed for a moment. Her touches were brief, however, and he knew she meant nothing by them, so he relaxed into the music a bit, his own fuzzy brain allowing him to enjoy himself. Brennan faced him on the table, a smile on her face and her pupils dilated, making her eyes darker. Her cheeks were flushed from her exertion, and she put one arm on his other shoulder. She closed her eyes and moved as well to the music. Booth let himself live in the moment, then and, putting one hand over Angela's that rested on his hip, and the other timidly on Brennan's waist, the three continued moving to the music, dancing and talking and laughing. _

_Booth heard the coffee table make several painful groaning noises, but it never gave. The three friends danced on until the CD came to the end and started over._

_The week had been a tough and painful one for all of them, but in this moment, Booth thought to himself, life was good._


	6. The Man in the Wall

**So this episode was kind of lame as far as interaction between Booth and Brennan, but it did help me drive a stake through Booth's relationship with Tessa…oh well…I do what I have to do…enjoy.**

_Booth hadn't known that Brennan and Angela had been planning on going to a club, and quite frankly he was anxious to see that. He chuckled to himself in the truck on the way to the crime scene. Tessa glanced over at him, but he focused his eyes on the road. This was going to be an interesting case…_

_He and Tessa arrived about thirty minutes after the discovery of the body in the wall, and they were met by a member of local law enforcement. Together, then entered the building._

"_Agent Booth, I'm afraid I'm a bit concerned for your associates." Booth cocked his head, waiting for more information. He didn't know what it meant, but it didn't sound good. "Well, they, uh…come with me and see for yourself." Booth made eyes at Tessa and together they followed the officer into the club._

"Are you sure she can handle this?" The officer was climbing down the club stairs in front of them, and Booth was half paying attention, his focus on trying to find Brennan and Angela and make sure they were okay.

"No one in our lab knows the first things about dealing with a mummy." Booth reached the bottom of the metal stairs and quickly reached a hand up to help Tessa down the last few. "I'd have to call her in anyway." And then she saw her.

She was spastically pushing officers away from the obvious hole in the wall, and Booth could see her eyes darting around the room, and when they landed on him, they were a darker blue than he'd ever seen. Before he could say anything else, the officer cut in.

"She assaulted two agents who were trying to tape off the body." Brennan approached in an oddly off balance way, and her voice was louder than needed when she finally spoke.

"They were trying to compromise the remains." Booth turned to the officer for an explanation.

"A cloud of meth covered the dance floor." Pointing a finger at Brennan he leaned in to speak to Booth. "I think they've inhaled quite a lot." Booth couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"Are you two high?"

Finally Angela, chewing on her pinky fingernail spoke up, "Only by accident, so it doesn't count." She sounded frustrated, but Booth turned his attention back to Brennan.

Her eyes were heavily lidded, and darker than Booth had ever seen them. She looked over his shoulder to where his girlfriend stood. "Why'd you bring Tessa? This doesn't seem like such a great date." Booth turned apologetically to her.

"We were out to dinner when he got your call. Your pupils are the size of saucers." Before Booth had a chance to comment Brennan spun around and ran away from the two of them towards another police officer.

"Get away from those remains." Booth didn't like having to be a detective _and_ a babysitter.

"Bones, simmer down." Booth went off to question the club manager, and Brennan went to stand by the body. When Booth finally turned around, Brennan seemed to be in some type of trance. She stared oddly into space, not focusing on anything or anyone. "Bones, how does something like this happen?" His words seemed to bring her back to life. She quickly slapped his arm away from the remains and turned to speak, ignoring the groan at her defensive move.

"Well, the Egyptians would give the body a cedar oil enema and then rinse it with wine and cover it with salt. I don't think that's what happened here." She was speaking extremely fast and with much enthusiasm. Booth didn't know whether to laugh or take her blood pressure.

"Bones, you are totally wasted."

_Brennan headed back to the lab to start work on identifying the dead man in the wall and Booth called Tessa to apologize again. He was not thrilled when he got her voicemail. He tried her several times on his drive home, but no dice. He had a pretty good feeling he knew what that meant…_

_Brennan couldn't explain or help the twinge of jealousy that she felt when Booth spoke of taking a vacation with Tessa. She had no claim over him what-so-ever, and neither did he over her. She thought quickly to the date she herself had this coming weekend, but it did little to satisfy her._

_She didn't know when she'd become quite so attached to Booth, and she didn't understand the feelings she was having for him._

_She remembered back to their first case together, over a year ago. Back then her attraction had been so primitive…so primal. She'd wanted him; wanted sex with him. Though she could not deny that those feelings still resided in the back corners of her mind, something about her magnetism to Booth had changed. As the needle of a compass turns on its axis, something in her had turned as well. She felt a need to be with him, or near him. She enjoyed his passion for his job, and she assumed that he felt it too. No, more than assumed, she knew he felt it too. She remembered back to their first case as official partners… "Alright, spit in my hand and we're Scully and Mulder." _

_She hadn't known what that meant, but after talking with Angela, she rented a few X-Files DVD's and watched them. She saw the way they worked together, trusted each other and depended on each other. It wasn't hard to see what Booth meant. She remembered smiling to herself at the thought of them as partners, just as Mulder and Scully were. Though they were not television stars, Brennan realized that the bond between her and Booth was worthy of such glory._

When Brennan found out that Tessa and Booth were up in the lounge, she had two reasons for heading up there. One, she wanted to tell Booth more about Deejay Mount and Eve's similar cause of death. Also, she was curious about this vacation he kept talking about. As she climbed the stairs, Angela's voice drifted to her as she talked to Tessa and Booth.

"Jamaica? God, that's incredible." She leaned casually against the guard rail on the high platform, and though she could easily persuade anyone that she was genuinely curious, Brennan knew she was secretly pumping the two for information. Whether it was for Brennan or not, Temperance didn't know, but with a grin she slowed her walking so she could catch more of the conversation undisturbed.

"Mmmm, it's a bed-and-breakfast. There are these coral cliffs – " Tessa sounded almost smug and Brennan clenched a fist. Tessa had changed in the months since Brennan had known her. Even Brennan could tell that Tessa was jealous about Booth working with a woman.

"Snorkeling, kayaking," Booth spoke as he buttoned up his fresh shirt that Tessa had brought for him. He didn't sound smug…he sounded happy to be getting away to a relaxing place.

"Oh. You two are so ready for the pre-shacking up test vacation." Angela grinned and Brennan froze on the top step. Booth hadn't mentioned moving in with Tessa. She wished she had the ability to read people the way Angela or Booth did.

Tessa looked confused from Angela to Booth and Booth spoke, "What do you mean?"

"You have keys to each other's places. You've done the weekend away a couple times. Yeah. It's time for the ten day vacation." Brennan didn't know if she imagined it or just hoped it, but she saw the look of intimidation in Booth's eyes as Angela spoke the words. "You know, Jamaica's like a dry run for living together," She spoke the words more to Tessa than to Booth, and Brenna thought she knew why. "…only with rum punch and steel drums." With that she walked between the two and headed down the catwalk towards the stairs. She ignored the goodbye from Tessa and instead winked at Brennan as she approached.

Tessa said something to Booth, but Brennan was too far away to catch it, but she heard Booth's reply. "Thanks for bringing me a shirt." He leaned in to kiss Tessa goodbye, but she barely made an effort, and Brennan watched as she made a kissing noise, but didn't even touch his lips.

"Hi, Tessa." Brennan approached with what she hoped was a calm, happy face.

"Yeah, okay. Bye." And Tessa strutted past Brennan and down the catwalk. Brennan stored that little nugget in her "to think about later" part of her brain and began speaking to Booth about what her team had found.

While Hodgins and Zack set up yet another experiment, Angela walked up to talk to her friend, bringing her what she hoped would be good news. Brennan was watching with wary eyes as Zack strapped on body armor and didn't see her friend approaching until she spoke.

"Get this. I called Tessa…to tell her a couple places she should check out in Jamaica. She's not going." Brennan's heart skipped a beat and she tried to keep her features calm. Part of her was relieved, but part of her was sad for her friend…it was a smaller part.

"What happened?" Her fierce blue eyes met Angela's soft brown ones.

"Well, she said something came up at work, but I know the truth." Her face turned cocky, but Brennan's reply was cut off by Hodgins

"How many times you want me to poke Zack?" He held the cane/probable murder weapon in his hands and the two women turned their attention to him.

"Just once, but as hard as you can." She turned back to Angela, curious to know the _real_ reason why Tessa would deny Booth. However, Zack piped up at that moment.

"As hard as he can?" Why don't I hit him as hard as I can?" There was a hint of desperation in his voice that normally would have made Angela chuckle.

Hodgins answered, "Because you have arms like noodles, while I'm vigorous and burly." Finally Brennan couldn't take it anymore.

"What truth?"

"They got freaked out by stage six."

"What's – What's stage six?" Brennan pulled her arms closer to herself while Angela slid hers into her lab coat pockets.

"One, spend the night. Two, spend the weekend." Brennan took this information in, wracking her own brain for prior knowledge of this system of classification. "Three, exchange keys. Four, sexy weekend getaway. Five, extended vacation, inevitably followed by six – move in together." Angela shrugged her shoulders as if this all were obvious.

"I'm an anthropologist. I know the stages of everything. You made those up." She was a bit disappointed.

"I did not. They got to stage five, and they balked."

"Not Booth. Booth did not balk." She didn't know why she was taking this personally, but she knew Booth better than Angela did. At least she felt that she did.

"Sweetie, it's always the guy."

"Booth is not a balker."

Their conversation would have continued, but at that moment Hodgins interrupted them again with the results of his and Zack's test.

_Brennan arrived at Wong Foos that evening, knowing that Booth would be there. They hadn't planned to meet, but she wanted to see him once more before he went on vacation. She needed to see him to see if what Angela had said was true. The sight of him wasn't what she expected._

_He sat alone at the bar, a fruity umbrella drink sitting untouched in front of him. He was watching the news report of the case they had just solved, and she made her way over to sit next to him._

"Getting yourself in the mood?" She eyed the drink in front of him again. He pulled the umbrella and pineapple wedge out of the glass, biting the fruit off at the rind and spinning the umbrella absently in his left hand.

"Trying." He chewed the fruit, and when he spoke again his voice had a sad quality to it that made Brennan's heart ache. "You know, this really isn't gonna be the type of vacation I was hoping for."

Brennan's heart began to pick up speed again, and she couldn't explain why. "Oh?"

"Tessa's not going. Something came up at work." He finally took a sip of the drink, swirling the pink liquid around the ice cubes that took up the majority of the glass.

"That's too bad." She started at her hands resting on the bar, trying to come up with words that would make him feel better. "I'm sorry." She watched as Booth struggled for words, coming up blank himself. "Hey, I like going on vacation by myself."

"Really?" It was a statement more than a question, but it was enough to get her to elaborate.

"Sure. Nothing wrong with being alone."

"No, I mean, you like to go on vacation?" His lips showed the faintest hint of a smirk.

"Yeah. I go places all the time."

Booth paused for a moment, an idea being to stir in his head. He pointed the little green drink umbrella at his partner. "Do you ever just, you know, sit on the beach…pretend there's no such thing as skeletons?"

"Is that in any way fun?"

"When was the last time you got away?" Booth's smirk was turning into a full fledged grin, and Brennan wasn't sure why, but she knew something was up.

"Got away from what?" Booth chuckled, still spinning the umbrella between his fingers.

"Oh, Bones, you know, because what usually happens to me…I think about not coming back." He spun the umbrella on the bar top, and though Brennan's eyes were on the small decoration, she was taking in his words carefully.

"Seriously?" He stood up and pulled on his jacket.

"Yeah. You know, you go with someone. You joke about not going back to your real life…the two of you laugh. But when you're alone, the world is full of possibilities." Brennan contemplated this for a moment before replying.

"See you next week." She tipped her head forward to better watch him leave.

After he was gone, she picked up the umbrella and studied it carefully before tossing it back on top of the bar.

**Can we say Jamaican vacation for Booth and Brennan? I think we can! Since this ep gave me so LITTLE to work with in the B&B department, I'm going to do a whole story on this last little bit. Give me time for them to pack their bags, and then I'll post 'The Man in the Wall…Part II' =) Google the Sugarmill Bed and Breakfast, cause that's where I'm sending 'em. YAY!**

**Thanks for sticking with me, and if you have any requests or anything, let me know! You guys rock!**


	7. The Jamaican Vacation

**So this is my take on what **_**should**_** have happened at the end of this episode. (It's okay Hart Hanson…I still love you) Hope you enjoy…I'm thinking this will be my first M fic in this series…YAY!**

Brennan was barely to her car when her phone rang. Wong Foos hadn't been, nor had it ever been as inviting without Booth there. She debated ordering a drink, but then decided to just go home. Without looking at the caller ID, she clicked the 'send' button. "Brennan." She stepped off the curb to cross the street, holding a hand up to slow a car that was coming.

"Hey, Bones." Booth's voice reached her ears and a smile played at her lips.

"Booth, what's going on? Is everything alright?" She unlocked her car and got in, shifting her phone to her left hand as she turned it on and put it in gear.

"Yeah, everything's fine." She sensed hesitation in his voice, and as she pulled out into traffic, she questioned him about it.

"Booth, I can tell something is bothering you. Are you hesitant about going on vacation alone?"

"No, uh, no, I just kind of got an idea on my way to my apartment." He paused, waiting for her to say something, but she was merging into traffic and didn't answer. "I have kind of a proposition for you, Bones."

"Alright?" She turned down the road that led to hers, curious at Booth's tone of voice and hesitation.

"So, Tessa backed out of this vacation at the last minute, and I can't cancel this late, so…" he paused, "and I wondered if maybe you wanted to come with me…" His voice got lower and softer as he spoke, and Brennan couldn't read his tone.

"You want to take me on a romantic vacation for a week?" She put on her left blinker at the red light on her corner. She wasn't sure of his intentions, but she didn't understand it. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Booth." The light turned green and she waited for two oncoming cars before making the turn down her street.

"No, Bones…nothing romantic about it. I just thought maybe it would be fun…you know, getting away from F.B.I. and skeletons and everything. Maybe I can get you to sit on that beach and forget about life."

"It wouldn't be healthy to forget about life. That would be a sign of sever onset dementia or Alzheimer's. I'm not…"

"Bones, I just mean I think that we're both overdue for some time off, and it would be fun to kick back, relax, have a few umbrella drinks. Hey, you could even show me around some ancient Jamaican burial grounds or something." He didn't really want to do that, but he figured that it might sweeten the pot a little.

"Oh." Brennan pulled into her parking garage and into her designated spot. "Well in that case, I accept." She put her car in park and turned off the ignition.

Booth was speechless for a moment. "Are you – are you serious Bones?" He didn't think it would be that easy. He couldn't help the smile that played at the corner of his mouth as he parked his truck across the street from his building.

"Yes, I am serious. I have heard of the Green Grotto Caves that were a haven for runaway slaves in the eighteenth century, and have always wanted to visit them. I have also heard of a waterfall that you can climb and several botanical gardens that are supposed to be very beautiful. I would be interesting in seeing those as well."

"Oh, alright, well, alright, Bones. Can you be ready by seven am? The plane leaves just before nine."

"Yes, that is a sufficient amount of time to get ready." Brennan got out of her car and headed towards the elevator in the parking garage. She wrinkled her nose when the scent of cigarette smoke drifted towards her. "Is it such a good idea for me to go on a vacation with you that you planned to take with Tessa?" Brennan waited outside the elevator, knowing that she would lose signal inside the car.

"It's okay. I mean, what kind of relationship would it be if Tessa didn't trust me? I'll call and let her know." Booth headed across the street and opened the door to the side entrance that led to his stairs. "So I'll pick you up around seven, okay?" He fished his keys out of his pocket.

"I will see you then." She grinned to herself, pressing the end button on her phone and then the button to call the elevator.

Brennan was wheeling her luggage to her front door when she heard a knock. "It's open, Booth." She headed back into her bedroom to grab her carry-on bag. She heard her door open and close, but Booth didn't speak. She pulled her bag over her shoulder, glanced around her bedroom, going through the list in her head of everything she wanted to pack. It had been quite a last minute trip and she didn't want to forget anything. Satisfied that she wasn't leaving anything behind, she closed her bedroom door and headed towards the living room to see Booth. She did _not_ expect what she saw.

"Booth, what's wrong?" He was unshaven, and had dark circles under his eyes. The t-shirt and jeans he wore were wrinkled, and his brown eyes looked distant. His jaw was clenched in an almost defiant way.

"Tessa broke up with me. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to get the hell out of here." He ran a hand through his messy hair. "The faster we get to the hotel, the faster and I can start sampling Jamaican rum." He tried and failed at a smile, and Brennan's heart sank. This was not how she wanted their vacation to start. She wanted Booth to be happy and carefree. Not distant and mourning.

"Do you want me to call her? I can explain our conversation last night, and I'm sure she'll understand." Brennan approached her partner, unsure of what to do.

"No. There's no fixing it. It's been a long time coming I think…I just _really_ don't want to talk about it right now, okay Bones?" His face looked desperate, and Brennan nodded.

"Alright. Well, I'm all ready to go." She pulled her carryon bag farther up her shoulder. Booth reached down to grab the handle of her luggage, and with a half smile he opened the door. She followed him out the door, and after locking it behind her, they proceeded down the hall. Just before they got in the elevator, Brennan heard Booth whisper.

"Thanks for coming with me, Bones." She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. She leaned gently into his arm and felt him nudge her back. This vacation would be good for both of them.


	8. A Man on Death Row

_Booth got to the office early. He knew Brennan was coming in that morning to petition for a side arm. He also knew that her petition would be denied. Why was he such a glutton for punishment that he would put her through this process, knowing how it would infuriate her? He just couldn't help himself._

_He sat on one side of the table in the interview room, pulling out the paperwork he would need, and couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. Just at that moment, his partner walked through the door._

"_Good morning, Booth." She smiled as she sat down across from him. Her blue eyes were sparkling._

"_Morning. _Name?" He jumped right into it.

"You know my name." She cocked her head to the side.

"Bones, you are making an official request to the F.B.I. to carry a concealed weapon. I have to follow protocol." He grinned inwardly, but let his professionalism take over.

"It's ridiculous."

"Fine," he slid the forms towards her, "Then we're done here. Do you want to get some coffee or-"

Speaking very loudly and, Booth could tell, angrily, Bones gave in to his game. "My name is doctor Temperance Brennan." She slid the form back towards her partner, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Reason for wanting a gun?" Booth clicked his pen back into action, scribbling her answers down on the requisition form.

"To shoot people." Matter of fact-ly.

"Not a good response."

"It's the truth."

Booth sighed, "You know, I'm writing, 'self-defense in the performance of my duties pursuing suspected felons as contracted out to the F.B.I.'"

"So I can shoot them." Brennan finished his statement.

Booth took a deep breath…now for the _fun_ part. "Have you been charged with a felony?" He spoke the words quietly, as if maybe they wouldn't matter.

"Charged or convicted?"

"Charged."

"You know I have." Something changed in those blue eyes at that moment, and Booth couldn't help but notice it.

"I have to ask the questions."

Brennan rolled her eyes, her voice dropping as well. "Bureaucratic nonsense."

"Nevertheless." He wrote some more on the form. "The name of the arresting officer?" He couldn't help but glean some enjoyment from this repartee.

"You." She spoke as if he should be an idiot not to know the answer. His eyebrows went up. "Special Agent Seeley Booth. Do you need me to spell that for you?" He could almost taste her disgust.

"I can sound that out." He whispered as he wrote his own name down in the appropriate blank.

"So when do I get the gun?"

Booth sighed, setting his pen down, then, picking up the stamp with bright red ink, he jabbed it down on the paper, holding it up for Brennan to see. The word DENIED stared back at her with a sense of ridicule. "You can't have a gun."

"Why not?"

"Because you were charged with a felony." She quickly pointed at the paper.

"Write down that you were wrong to charge me."

"Oh, there's no space for that." He knew what was coming next, and he braced himself for it.

"Why'd we go through this if you were never gonna give me a gun?"

"You have a constitutional right to apply for a weapon. I would never deny your constitutional right."

She stuttered, and Booth knew the battle was won. "Well, I need a gun." Something changed again in those blue eyes; they seemed to lose a bit of their fire.

"Rules are rules."

"Tell them that I shot a murderer who was going to light me on fire."

"Which is why you weren't convicted. But you did shoot an unarmed man. I can't ignore that. I swore an oath to protect society from people who shoot people." Brennan cut him off.

"It was only his leg, and he's in jail for the rest of his life. How much is he gonna use it anyway?"

"You have the right to an appeal."

"To whom?" Booth's eyebrows went up, and Brennan jerked back a millimeter.

"Cullen?" Booth nodded. "I am pretty sure he doesn't like me."

Booth clicked his pen closed. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure you're right." Booth tossed the clipboard aside and stood up, Brennan close at his heels as they made their way back to his office. "Bones, you don't need a gun. If anyone needs shooting, I'll do it." Brennan began to overtake him, walking just a pace in front of him; just where she liked to be.

"But what if you're injured or dead, and someone still needs shooting?" Booth looked at her, a cringe overtaking his features. "I'm not hoping it'll happen. I'm just stating a possibility." Booth sighed, taking several long strides to overtake her. Just before entering his office, he stopped and faced her.

"Come on. You know what, Bones? You're a professor. You're not an F.B.I. agent, okay? Use your mutant powers. Just talk people to death." Booth turned to enter his office, and his heart sunk when he saw the woman standing there, waiting for him. She spoke before he could.

"Am I interrupting?"

Brennan sized up the woman in a split second. She wore a visitor pass like herself, so she knew she wasn't an agent. She held some type of case file in her hand, but she was dressed more like a doctor or lawyer than a cop or detective. Brennan stood behind Booth for a moment while this exchange took place, not wanting to interrupt, though her curiosity was piqued.

"I told them not to let you in this building. I gave them your picture." Brennan could tell that Booth was on edge, and that immediately put her on edge too.

"Which is why I wore the tiny skirt."

"Mm-hmm. Very cute." Booth sarcastically replied as he walked past her towards his desk. Brennan took this moment to enter the office herself.

"Amy Morton." She held her hand out, and Brennan took it; cautiously.

"Temperance Brennan." She chanced a look at Booth, but he was trying to ignore the situation.

"You work with Booth?"

"Yes. I'm a forensic anthropologist." She glanced at Booth again, and he was looking right at the empty space between the two women. Amy spoke again.

"I'm a defense lawyer. I tend to work _against_ Booth." At that moment, Booth interjected.

"If it's all the same, I'd prefer you two didn't bond in any way." Brennan took a step back.

"I want to get back to the lab. You said I could fill out some gun reapplication forms." Booth turned and pulled several sheets of paper out of folders behind his desk, grouping them and handing them back to Brennan.

"Yeah. Send it back by courier. No hurry." He walked Brennan to the door. Just before she left, she spoke over her shoulder.

"Nice to meet you." And with that she left, too engrossed in the forms to realize the severity of Amy Morton's visit to Booth's office.

_Brennan could feel the moment that Booth walked into the lab. She had every intention to grill him about her fire arm reapplication and who that Amy woman was, but as soon as she saw his face, she knew something wasn't right. He walked tall and rigid, and though most people would be fooled, Brennan was not. His eyes looked haunted as if he'd seen a ghost. Though she knew that was impossible, she understood the metaphor, and it aptly described the eerie look on his face. She felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she knew that direct confrontation would shut him down, so she decided to wait and let him talk first._

"Mmm, Angela. Lookin' good." Brennan almost smiled at his attempt at normalcy, but she could tell it was forced.

"And don't I know it." She grinned and he whistled. Angela was fooled. Brennan watched out of the corner of her eye as Booth approached Hodgins and Zack.

"Okay, our tax dollars hard at work." He watched as Zack and Hodgins silently cheered on their respective beetles, who were currently in a race, the winner's owner taking home the prize of one dollar. Hodgins glanced up first.

"Yeah, what's break time at the F.B.I.? Book burning?" Booth response was to place a glass beaker over one of the beetles, earning a groan of defeat from Hodgins and a smile from Zack.

"Hey, Bones, what are you doing this weekend?" He approached her work station, where she was unloading bones from a wooden crate onto her examination table.

"I have plans."

"Come on. I'm serious." She picked up one half of a sacrum and examined it, trying to figure out a way to get Booth to talk about what had him so on edge. She tried a slightly indirect approach.

"Between your girlfriend, the corporate lawyer, and the defense lawyer on the side, your weekend must be completely booked." It was her attempt and fail at humor, and she realized right away that it didn't work. "What is your thing with lawyers?" She headed towards her office, hearing Booth's footfalls behind her before he spoke again

"Uh, look, seven years ago a seventeen year old girl, April Wright, was found beaten to death in a federal park." He hit the folder in his hand for emphasis. "Amy's just trying to stop the guy who did it from being executed."

Brennan moved to be a step in front of him again, and Booth didn't fight her for it. "So I guess we're not pursuing your lawyer obsession?" His tone became defensive.

"No. Amy doesn't think he did it."

"What does this have to do with you?"

"Oh, well, if Amy's client is deep-sixed, and she doesn't turn over every stone-"

"And you're one of her stones?" It was a statement more than a question, but at that moment Brennan entered her office and sat down at her desk. "Do you think he did it?" She set the sacrum down and nudged her computer mouse to get her computer to wake up.

"Yes." Booth still held the folder, and Brennan was waiting for him to set it down in front of her.

"What's her reasoning?"

"There was a, uh, pubic hair that wasn't accounted for." Brennan began typing, waiting for Booth to say what he _really_ came here to say.

"Pubic hair? Sounds like a job for the F.B.I. crime lab."

"It's a weekend deal. Off the books. But if you have plans…" There, he said it. He turned to leave, knowing that the bait he'd just tossed out there wouldn't stay untouched for long. He was right.

"Wait." He turned from her office door, and she saw that haunted look again, the one that had been on his face when he entered the lab. She knew this was big, and even more important, it was personal. His eyes looked desperate, and, putting thoughts of her denied fire arm aside, she decided to help. "This is a personal favor you're asking?" Again, it was a statement more than a question.

He was very clear in his answer. "Not for me, for Amy." His brow furrowed and he got that little wrinkle between his eyebrows; a sort of worried determination.

"Well, your personal favor would be for Amy, but mine would be for you, strictly speaking." Booth approached her desk, unsure of how to answer. He finally met her eyes, and she was moved at the depth she saw there…this was important.

"Please do me a favor." She eyed him for a moment, wishing she could use her intellect to extrapolate the information she wanted from Booth's brain. "Please?" His tone was laced with pleading.

Her response was silently reaching for the case file, which he handed over with much relief. He watched her as she flipped open the flimsy cardstock F.B.I. case file, flipping through several pictures of the victim. "Any remains withheld from burial?" The picture she had open showed the girl, dead, purple and angry red bruises covering her face. Even in death with her eyes closed she looked pained. Brennan saw much promise in that face, and the case grabbed her. The dead have no one to speak for them. That was one of her main drives in her field of study; to give a voice to those who cannot speak.

"Not after the last appeal." Brennan looked up slowly, nodding, and Booth knew she was in.

"I need X-rays from the M.E. and the coroner. Originals. The copies are useless. Booth started making mental notes, the urgency of this case putting him on alert. "Bone scrapings, lab results, tox screens."

"All the evidence will be here within an hour." Even Brennan was surprised at the rush.

"I'll ask the others, but I won't order them. They might have plans." She knew her zeal to help Booth wasn't always shared with the other Jeffersonian employees, and sometimes for good reason, but she would try. She flipped to the next page in the report.

"It's Friday night and they're racing beetles." Brennan looked up with what she hoped was an annoyed look, but she knew Booth had a point.

"How much time do we have?"

Booth pulled a pocket watch out of his pants pocket. "Howard Epps will be executed in 30 hours and 23 minutes."

_The evidence arrived within thirty minutes, and even Booth was impressed. While Hodgins began opening boxes and speaking of ancient civilizations' methods of execution, Brennan began examining X-rays, Zack close behind her. Booth tried to make out what they were saying, but they were speaking so quickly to each other, he had to keep interrupting to ask what they were talking about._

_Brennan sent Zack to the park where the body was found and Booth got a call from the murdered girl's father. Everything was happening very quickly, and Brennan didn't like the sense of urgency. She liked the urgent need to solve crimes, but not when someone's life hung in the balance. Normally their cases were solved as the clues came together. She didn't like grasping at clues, trying to force them into place to free a death row inmate. She was worried that Booth and her team would start to see things that didn't belong, to find fact where none was, to use conjecture instead of logic to answer questions. She needed to be careful._

_Booth met with the murdered girl's, April Wright's, parents. It was honing in on one in the morning, and the stress of the case and the lateness of the hour was taking its toll on all. Booth tried to calm their fears, but the look on his face when he got a call from Brennan saying that they were going to exhume April's body did little to help. Booth spoke with the Wright's attorney, and suspicion began to fall on him. He had been April's employer, and spent many late nights with the girl._

_Booth didn't tell Brennan that he got reamed by Cullen for reopening the Howard Epps case. He didn't want her to know how frail the string was that held their partnership together._

_It was around four am when April Wright's body finally arrived at the Jeffersonian. Zack uncovered it and they began their investigation. Amy couldn't handle watching, but didn't want to leave either. She was on the far edge of the platform, and was the first to see Booth arrive._

"I got a warrant to search the house of the guy April Wright had sex with the night she was murdered." He walked past everyone, heading straight for Brennan.

"What did you find?" She turned from April's body.

"Underwear." He held up a clear zipper bag with the garment in it. "Can you run a comparison on the hair?" Brennan gave a quick nod and handed the bag to Zack and Hodgins. While they played rock-paper-scissor to see who would do the analysis, Booth spoke again.

"Is that April Wright?" Brennan gave another quick nod.

"It looks like she wasn't killed where she was found."

"Then where was she murdered?"

_The evidence they found on April was not enough to stay the execution. Amy even suggested that Booth go to the judge and tell him that he had a change of heart and that pulled at Brennan's heart strings. She knew Booth was resolute and certain, but she also knew that he fought for the truth no matter what. He didn't like it when his head and his heart didn't run in sync on a case. Booth was still resolute in his decision, but never-the-less, around six am, Booth, Brennan, Amy and the new prosecutor were knocking on the judge's door, trying to get a stay of execution._

_The judge was not convinced._

_Brennan went back to the lab and Booth and Amy went to the prison to tell Epps that he would die in less than thirteen hours._

_With just over seven hours to go, a pollen had been found in April's skull that had them honing in on a murder sight. While the squints worked to find where April was murdered, Booth tried another attempt at questioning the Wright's attorney. The only thing he found out was that he had sex with April, and that they argued…he would _not_ confess to murder._

_With four hours left, Booth and Brennan found themselves in the very last place they wanted to be…in a meeting with Cullen. If they were going to pull this off, they needed help._

"He admits to having sex with her?" Cullen stood at one end of a conference room table, Brennan and Booth at the other end. Brennan had rarely felt this uncomfortable. She sat at the end of the table, with Booth hovering over her in what felt like a protective manner, and this once, she was happier for it.

"Yes, sir."

"Did he kill her?"

"Well he's either telling the truth, or he's setting up his defense." Brennan remained quiet, as per Booth's request, and again, she was okay with that.

Cullen was processing this information, well aware of the time constraints of this investigation. "So, April Wright met David Ross for a sexual liaison. He took her to a second unknown location, beat her to death and deposited the body back at the park." Brennan waited in anticipation. "That's sketchy." He sat down across from them, and it put both Booth and Brennan on edge.

"Which is why we have to find the murder weapon." Brennan finally broke her silence and immediately felt Booth move towards her an infinitesimal amount.

"Find a tire iron in a marsh after seven years. That's a long shot." Cullen's face was getting red, and Booth didn't like it.

"That's why we need the metal detectors and the G.P.R." Brennan was desperate and Booth could hear it in her voice. He just hoped that Cullen could too.

"And a dozen or so agents, sir." Booth decided to throw something in for good measure, and also to take the heat off of Brennan.

"And if you find this tire iron, you can positively identify it as the murder weapon?"

"It's possible we can match the traces we found in April's skull."

" 'Possible'? No." Cullen took a deep breath. "Howard Epps's lawyer should present this argument to the judge and let him decide." Brennan cringed, dreading that Cullen would speak those exact words.

"Uh, sir, without the murder weapon, he will not stay the execution." He met his superior's eyes in desperation, and couldn't read the emotion he found there.

"Way out on a limb here, Booth." Brennan couldn't take it anymore.

"He's just trying to find the truth. Why should he be penalized…" but the look Cullen gave her made her swallow the rest of her words. He looked from Brennan back to Booth, and Booth couldn't help but look down at his partner. He loved her drive and her need to find the truth, both for herself and for him. He couldn't ask for more in a partner.

"Take the equipment and the men you need." Cullen spoke the words and Brennan replayed them in her head several times in a matter of seconds to make sure she heard correctly. Booth was already responding.

"Thank you, sir." Booth stood, placing his hands protectively and triumphantly on Brennan's shoulders. It made Cullen angry.

"She can't have a gun." He spat the words directly at Brennan, though he was looking at Booth.

"No gun. Absolutely not." He pushed Brennan towards the door. "No gun. Thank you, sir."

_Booth drove his truck faster than ever as he and Brennan made their way to the location Angela figured on her simulator. F.B.I. agents frantically set up lighting. Metal detectors were humming and cell phones were ringing and Brennan and Booth made their way across the service road as an agent shouted that he found the murder weapon._

_Booth glanced down at one of the G.P.R. screens and his heart sank. He knew what it was, and he didn't have to be a forensic anthropologist. Brennan started digging and soon two more victims were found buried in the earth near the chemical plant where April Wright was killed. Booth knew before Brennan did that it was Epps. _

_The whole thing was a set-up to buy Epps more time. Brennan felt like she might vomit when the realization hit her. With the disgust he hadn't felt since he was a ranger, Booth dialed Amy's number on his phone, setting the stay of execution in motion._

Booth, Brennan and Amy sat in a shabby gray visitor's room, waiting for Epps to be brought in. When Brennan finally saw the man who had outsmarted her, her stomach twisted in revulsion.

He was a weak little man, with worried eyes and limp shoulders. Brennan knew immediately that he was smart, because physical strength escaped him. When he spoke she closed her eyes in abhorrence.

"Thank you. All I can say is thank you."

"What's that, Howie? Practicing to get jury sympathy?" Booth spoke the words with detest, and Brennan sympathized in every sense of the word.

Epps looked as though he may cry. "I did not kill anyone." He moved towards the table and slowly sat down, and as he did, his features changed. His eyes steeled and darkened; his body became rigid yet relaxed…cocky. He morphed into the killer that Brennan knew him to be. He spoke to Brennan and even his voice was different. "Thank you. I mean it."

"We found the tire iron. You'll be found guilty of these murders." With the faintest hint of a sneer he looked over at Amy.

"Well, I need a good lawyer." His eyes bore into hers and Brennan could feel the table shaking. She knew the young attorney was rattled. "These murder investigations take a long time." He grinned at her. "Then there's the appeals. And since I should've been dead a half an hour ago…" he glanced up at Booth with a sneer. "It's all gravy from now on."

"We gave him everything he wanted." Amy spoke the words to no one in particular, and the grin on Epps's face grew and he spoke.

"Who knows if there'll even be a death penalty then?" Not able to stop the tears that were imminent, Amy got up from the table and Brennan heard the alarm of the door as it opened and closed for her to leave. Epps looked back at Brennan, and Booth felt the hair on his arms stand up.

"And I owe you too. I read your book. When I heard you were working with Booth here…I knew you were just what I needed." He spoke as if he tasted each word, reveling in their delectability. It made acid churn in Booth's stomach. Epps reached out to take Brennan's hand, but it was she who reacted before Booth could even take his eyes off of Epps.

With a strength she only reserved for self preservation, she squeezed Epps's hand, lifting him out of his chair as she stood, and with a groan she slammed his wrist down on the stainless steel table. Booth heard the sickening crack of his wrist breaking and Epp's head slammed down on the table's surface. Brennan let go and pulled back into a standing position. Epps groaned behind them as they turned to leave.

"You gonna arrest me for assault?"

"From what I saw, purely self-defense."

Brennan gave a mirthful chuckle. "Maybe I shouldn't carry a gun after all."

"Hell, you can have mine." Booth swiped his I.D. badge and they were let out of the room.

That evening, even though they had been up for over forty eight hours, Booth and Brennan found themselves at the bar at Wong Foos. Brennan leaned her head on her hand, absently twirling her wine glass on the bar top. Booth sat hunched over, his head resting on his folded arms. Neither of them had much to say, but neither one wanted to leave.

Sid brought them food, Scallops in Szechuan garlic sauce and duck fried rice for her, coffee and apple pie for him. Sid held up a glass. "To simple pleasure, my friends. Simple pleasures." Booth held up his coffee, and Brennan made a motion of salute with her chop sticks. Both began eating with the faintest hint of a smile on their faces.

_They ate in silence and 3am found Booth driving a bleary eyed Brennan home. He pulled up along her curb by her building and she gave him a faint smile before lifting her hand to open the door of the truck._

"_Bones, wait." Brennan cringed. She desired nothing more than a hot bath and sleep. She had every intention of taking the morning off from work to sleep and clear her mind. This case had rattled her down to her core, had her facing pure evil, and she needed time to center herself again; to reach out and pull her logic back around her. With a deep breath, she turned back to Booth._

"_What is it Booth?" The words came out in a sigh, and she felt as tired as Booth looked. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face seemed pale with the shadow of unshaven facial hair. She slumped back in her seat._

"_I have something for you." He reached under the driver's seat and pulled out a small package, wrapped in deep blue wrapping paper. He handed it over to her, and she furrowed her brow. It was heavy for its size, and she had no guesses as to what it might be._

"_What is it, Booth?" She spoke the words again, and a throaty chuckle escaped him. He nudged the package closer to her._

"_You have to open it, Bones." With less than normal enthusiasm, she pulled at the edge of the wrapping, and found the tape holding the paper together. With several tugs she had the package free. It was a small, black case. Freeing the center lock, the lid snapped open and Brennan lifted it. Tears welled up in her eyes at what she saw._

_A small 9mm dark gray pistol lay in the blue velvet center of the case, a full clip next to it. She pulled the weapon out of the case, testing the weight. It fit her hand perfectly, as if it had been cast for her. She gently set the gun back down in the case, finally looking up at Booth. The warm look she saw in his eyes warmed her heart._

"_I thought Cullen said I couldn't have a gun." She stole her eyes away from Booth's face to look back down at the pistol in her lap._

"_Well, you can't, technically. This is sort of a secret compromise." Brennan looked at him quizzically. "I requisitioned for a second side arm, and was approved. I got it for you. It came with an ankle holster. I'll carry it, but it's your gun." Brennan ran her fingers gently across the metal of the small barrel. "Just, uh, don't tell Cullen about it, okay?" He glanced from the gun up to Brennan's face and the smile that shone there made his whole body feel warm. She set the case down on the floor and without warming leaned over the seat and wrapped both arms strongly around him._

_She felt warm and unafraid in his arms, and he couldn't help but respond. He wrapped his arms around her, barely hearing her whisper._

"_Thank you, Booth." She squeezed tighter. "Thank you."_

_She slowly pulled away, laying a kiss on his cheek as she leaned back in her seat. His skin tingled where her lips brushed against it. "I mean it, thank you."_

"_I know, Bones. You're welcome." He grinned, leaning back into his own seat. "Have a good night Bones. I'll see you later, okay?" She smiled and nodded, releasing the catch on the door. She got out, placing the pistol in its wrapping on the passenger seat._

"_I'll see you, Booth." She grinned at him one more time, then closed the truck door._

_He waved sleepily and then pulled away from her curb, and she watched him until he turned the corner, disappearing from view._

_She smiled to herself as she entered her apartment building…appreciating the simple pleasures in her life._


End file.
